The More Things Change
by Leesy
Summary: Sarah expected the entire world to change the morning after her escapades in the Labyrinth, but it puttered along at its usual mundane pace. She was the one who was different, her life transformed. The world at large may not have noticed, but gleaming eyes in the dark did. Hilarity and hair-raising adventure ensues. Rated T just in case.
1. One

It is funny how one person's world can turn itself upside down and inside out, while no one else notices. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Sarah expected the entire world to, to… something… the morning after her escapades in the Labyrinth. But it something'd along the way it always had. So did the next day, and the day after that. Weeks and months went by, and the only difference the world noticed was Sarah's newfound sense of responsibility, her looser grip on material possessions, and a sudden outpouring of adoration for her little brother. She was far less the brat, more the woman.

The years drifted by and Sarah never forgot her time Underground, those events seared permanently into her memory. They were triggered occasionally by a glimpse of something far in the distance, a scent on the breeze, a melody on the radio – but their occurrence had long since stopped jarring her the way they had in those first months. Furthermore, Hoggle regularly assured her when the subject arose that she had always been perfectly safe in his care. This always made Sarah smile, she appreciated the sentiment.

People at school looked at her differently. She had friends in the drama club and at the school paper, she was never physically alone, but there were times where she felt isolated. Boys seemed to avoid her romantically – she was seventeen now and had never been on a date, let alone kissed or touched in the way the girls and guys she spent her time with idolised and bragged about interchangeably. Determined not to slide into fits of self pity and odes to how unfair the world was, Sarah kept a journal of her thoughts and poetry. Her raw self poured out on paper in order to let herself continue to function as a somewhat normal human being.

* * *

BZZZZT! BZZZZT! BZZZZT! BZZZZT! BZZZZT! BZZZ- clunk! Thwop! BANG!

"I'm awake. So awake. Uuuuuugggghhh…"

Light poured in through the curtains and stung a drowsy Sarah in the eyes as she rolled onto her back to look at her battered alarm clock. Her teenage years had not been kind to it, and yet it stoically hung on to its existence. Loyal to its owner, it told her the time despite the abuse it suffered daily for merely doing its job. And that time was past her usual rising minute.

"You've got to be kidding."

She jumped out of her bed. Drowsiness still clung to her and willed her to return to her slumber, but she refused its allure as she discarded her pyjamas. Fishing around in the pile of clothes on the chair near her bed, Sarah found and pulled on her favourite long white t-shirt with the black faux leather trim around the bottom and her favourite black leggings. Sauntering downstairs, she slipped on a pair of tennis shoes as her step mother greeted her from the hall.

"Good morning, Sarah!" Irene chirped brightly, the three year old Toby on her hip and a piece of toast in one hand. The tension of the first few years of their relationship had abated somewhat after Sarah's time in the Labyrinth much to Irene's surprise and pleasure. She took a bite of her toast as her step daughter kissed Toby's smiling cheek.

"Morning," Sarah managed, attempting a smile from underneath the tangled bush of hair partially covering her face and the last dregs of sleep still hanging on for dear life. She pulled it out the way and into a haphazard ponytail while making her way to the kitchen and the smell of freshly percolated coffee. _Mmm. Elixir of life, come at me_ , she thought with a degree of pleasure.

Coffee and toast consumed, she grabbed her backpack and headed for the door, yelling good natured goodbyes on her way to her first day of her senior year.

She wandered down the halls, waving and smiling occasionally at acquaintances she had not seen during the summer. She plugged her ears into her music player, listening to a David Bowie/Rolling Stones/Toto/Queen mixtape that she had patiently pirated from the albums left behind by her flaky runaway mother.

Amidst the crowds of teenagers finding their way for the first time that school year, Sarah felt comfortably self assured. Life was okay. It was a new year, she had her tunes, her close friends from the paper, the –

THWUMP.

Sarah tripped on thin air, headphones being ripped from her ears and the onslaught of reunited pals chattering and tittering about their summer replaced the sweet, sweet acoustic Bowie track she had been cruising along to. She groaned, her left knee and right palm throbbing from the impact with the ground.

"Hey! Are you okay?" A soft voice with a faint accent came from above her. She looked up a little and saw the polished shoe clad feet that the voice must be attached to.

"Uhh, yeah. Just peachy," she replied with an amused note, tinged with sarcasm. Something small and dark zipping away just on the edge of her field of vision caught her eye – "Did you see that?"

"See what?" He chuckled and offered her a hand up. Sarah accepted his hand and looked up at the guy for the first time and smiled.

"I'm Yves, good to meet you." The barely kempt blonde grinned, his coffee brown eyes glinting with humour. He seemed nice enough. His clothing choices seemed confused, as if he wasn't sure whether he wanted to be an old school hippie or a mod from the 1960s. Tight pants and a green shirt, tassels on his vest, shiny shoes on his feet and foliage carefully arranged in his hair. _Probably some fresh look straight out of Paris_ , she thought idly.

"Likewise," replied Sarah, brushing herself off. "I mean, I'm Sarah, and it's a good to meet you too," she explained to his raised left eyebrow. Yves handed her bag to her with another musical laugh.

"I have to say, that was quite the impressive fall. You looked like you were about to take flight right up until you face planted."

"Yeah, I have a knack for that kind of thing."

The two regarded one another for a moment, the silence slightly less awkward than those she usually shared with new people. "So… what've you got first up then, Sarah?" He asked at length, the bodies milling around them no longer registering high on her radar.

Sarah looked at him quizzically and then realised what he mean. She checked the piece of paper creased in her hand with her new year's schedule on it. "English first period, then drama."

"No way!" Yves exclaimed excitedly.

It was Sarah's turn to look amused. "What?"

"I mean, I have drama second period too. Which is cool. Biology first period, but whatever." Yves managed to restrain himself from gushing too heavily. _Real smooth_ , he thought sarcastically at himself.

"Oh great," Sarah responded brightly. "Well, Looking forward to seeing you-"

"Hey, Ivy League!" A brash but amiable voice called over the heads of the crowding students. "Have you got my schedule?"

Sarah mouthed the obvious Jock-created nickname as a question at Yves with an amused look on her face. Yves rolled his eyes back at her, turning to respond to their approaching class mate.

"Yeah," called Yves, who then continued conspiratorially to Sarah, "And a few spare brain cells in case he's ever interested." The pair laughed and smiled at the walking slab of meat with a haircut approaching them with a genuine grin.

"Well, who's this then, Ivy League?" The Jock leered in what Sarah supposed he thought was an attractive way. She smiled back at him and answered. "Sarah. Hi. And you are..?"

"Chip! Call me chip. Junior varsity wrestling team." Chip beamed proudly.

"Well, nice to meet you, Chip. I should probably get to class." She turned and headed towards English, not before waving to Yves. "See you next period." Yves waved back amicably.

The day flew by, and Sarah spent it interchangeably with her school paper friends and her new allies, Yves and Chip. Yves was an excellent conversationalist, and Chip was fun to be around in his own bravado-fuelled, meatheaded way. Sarah made her way home feeling as positive about her senior year as she had at the beginning of the day. Hoggle would be fascinated to hear about her new friends, the pixie boy and the walking haircut. She wasn't so sure whether Sir Didymus would approve, but she would cross that bridge when she came to it.

Tossing her bag to the side as she walked in the door, she swooped down and picked up her cat. "C'mere, Puck. You little cutie." She scratched her white cat under his chin, his royal self grumpily allowing her to take her affection out on him. "Good kitty." Puck purred despite himself, for a human Sarah was not so bad. Even if she did debase his lineage with the occasional pet name, he found such slights easy to forgive when the same human was responsible for the most world changing chin scratches and regular sardine supply.

Sarah spent the evening quiet with her family and her cat, playing with Toby, listening to records in her room and talking to Hoggle while she painted her nails. All was well in her world.

For now.

* * *

The Goblin King spun a crystal idly on his fingertips as he listened to a pair of his subjects bicker in front of his throne. Rolling his eyes, he interrupted – "It's simple, honestly. Both of you. Your cartwheel was damaged by his rampaging chickens. Frogglewhorp–"

"Err, it's Frogmorton, Majesty – "

"–Whatever. Don't interrupt me. Frondyflork, you owe Perkiwillow a new cartwheel, plus recompense for his lost business for the day. Pellyfiddle, you owe Fogdorton a new chicken." Perrywinkle the dwarf declined to correct the king, even though Frogmorton's chickens remained safe and sound (and as manic as ever).

Frogmorton the goblin had other ideas. "But sire – "

The goblin king pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "Do you want me to defenestrate the both of you?"

"No your Majesty," answered the dwarf quickly and apologetically, and all the while sending cutting sideways glances at the chicken tending goblin.

"Very well. Case dismissed. Next!" The gnome and the goblin hobbled out of the throne room and were replaced by a stocky man of mid height, wearing a fine linen shirt and red tartan kilt with sporran. Jareth visibly relaxed at the sight of him. It was Medwin, his most trusted advisor and the governor of Goblin City. "You're a sight for sore eyes, friend."

"Are your goblins giving the gnome traders grief again, Majesty?" Medwin wandered up to the Goblin King at his throne and handed him a few letters. "Just your luck."

"You have no idea." The king glanced at their seals before placing them on the bone arm rest nearest to him. "So," he began after a beat, changing the subject, "How fares our young dryad at his little task aboveground?"

Medwin sighed. "He had to make contact today. Bolg scouts have taken notice of her, now that she is maturing."

A frown creased Jareth's otherwise flawless features. _Fantastic, just what I need. The Bolg, getting involved in my affairs_. "Does she know?" He leaned forward on the arm of his throne.

"She was almost alerted when one of your goblins got themselves seen, but the young lad distracted her well enough I reckon."

"Distracted her? How?" Jareth's face was carefully neutral, if sober, but he brought his previously leisurely draped leg back to the seat. He leaned forward, concealing his concern and mild jealousy of Sarah's attentions beneath an air of political concern.

Merwin knew better. He'd known the King since he was a young prince and he knew how to quell his fears, as much as he hated using his half-elven powers of persuasion. His dwarven heritage made him squirm internally whenever he used them, but there was nothing worse than an unruly monarch on the path of vengeance. It was bad enough when the Lady had beat him, and had taken Medwin months to find new ways to soothe the bruised ego and broken heart of the Goblin King. Not the least of which included keeping a spy near her at all times. "Nothing serious, Jareth. Surely you're not worried that one of your most loyal subjects would muscle in on your future queen?"

Jareth's face was the picture of magnanimity. "Of course not. I'm just curious about the young yew tree's methods. He comes from quite the…unorthodox…line, you see."

"Yes, now that you mention it, his family is quite unique in their makeup."

"Perfect for the job, wouldn't you say?" The Goblin King smiled his pointy toothed smile.

After a moment spent pondering Jareth's statement, Medwin agreed.

* * *

 **A/N: Looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this story!**


	2. Two

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews and follows, everyone! And You're right, Miss Granger, those Bolg indeed.**

* * *

"Lady Sarah!"

Sarah groaned, peeking out from under her pillow. Her movement was cause for a weary grumble from Puck, who was at that point nursing a mousing hangover. He had consumed far too many rodents for one night, and he'd be damned if any creature, human or otherwise, was going to disturb him further. Sarah heeded his warning, carefully straining her neck to see over the cushion blocking her view. There on her bedside table crouched three goblins early one cool Saturday morning at the beginning of Autumn.

"Lady! Lady! Tell us a story!"

Sarah leaned up at them and said, eyes still sleep clogged, "It's only 5am and I have a huge day to look forward to…ugh… don't have to be awake for another hour…. I wish you would all go away for a while and let me sleep."

The goblins sighed and took themselves back to the underground realm with a series of _Fffts_ and _Poofs_. Sometimes their beloved lady could be a bit unforthcoming in the story department… especially when she hadn't had any coffee.

* * *

A bright red leaf found itself detached suddenly from the branch it had called home for so many months, and floated gracefully to the grass below. Instead of landing on the small green faces it had admired for such a long time, the leaf rested in the deep brown hair pooled about a young lady who looked up at the patchy autumn sky in thought. Not a bad place to land, really.

The day had progressed pleasantly after her rude awakening - her morning shift at the book store had passed quickly and Sarah now found herself in the company of one of her new best friends. Sarah sat up on her elbows and regarded the aforementioned blonde friend nearby, lounging on his side with a book of French poetry. (The leaf tumbled from her locks to the ground, eager to learn of its siblings' adventures since leaving their branches.)

" _Puisque j'ai dans tes mains posé mon front pâli_ ," he read aloud, sounds with which his accent was familiar. "I do love Victor Hugo, he had quite the way with words." Yves sighed and stared off into the distance.

Sarah tilted her head with interest, resting it lazily on one of her shoulders. "What was he talking about in that line?"

Yves, looking back at Sarah after regarding a tree a few metres away with mild surprise, replied with "Oh. Hugo was talking about a beautiful memory, or maybe a dream. Or perhaps time." He cleared his throat and smiled disarmingly at Sarah and went on reading other bits and pieces to her.

Sarah looked back up at the clouds, their weightless waltz across the sky reminding her of a moment outside of time. She smiled, humming the music that always accompanied the pleasant dream. She heard Yves say something and sat up to look at him again. "What was that?"

Yves laughed and repeated, "I said… Where are you spinning off to in that imagination of yours?"

"Oh, just an old memory… or dream?" a frown creased her brow. "I'm never quite sure which."

"Want to talk about it?"

"You'd never believe me."

Yves smiled warmly, the sparkle of humour and warmth of friendship evident in his eyes. "Try me." The leaves swirled around them with a sudden breeze that Sarah did not feel. She unconsciously shivered regardless.

Reassured by his openness, Sarah spun a convincing tale of a homecoming dance where she had the attention of its king for the entire evening, but spent the whole time trying to find her friend who was supposed to also be at the party. She related her pleasure at finally finding her friend, and her regret at not spending more time with the enigmatic guy who unfortunately hindered her efforts at each meeting. It was a shame, he had seemed genuinely interested and quite the caring fellow... despite his love for playing pranks and occasional disregard for his team members. But, she continued, it was too late by the end of the night. She had since learned her lesson and got on with life.

Sarah filled in all the details in a believable realm of possibility, without one mention of magic. Her friends in the Labyrinth became old school friends now long since moved away, and the goblins were cast as football players. All in all, it was a fanciful yet completely un-magical story. Sarah was quite pleased with the way it rolled off her tongue.

"Really? The Homecoming King after a Sophomore?"

"I told you it was unbelievable," Sarah said, laughing.

"What became of your… Beau?"

Sarah laughed some more. "He moved to Estonia with his family at the end of the year." Making things up was just too easy.

The subject changed and they chatted amicably for the rest of the afternoon about school, drama class, Yves' native home, the merits of avoiding the second floor bathrooms at school, their insanely popular and spectacularly stubborn friend Chip, homecoming, and the quickly approaching winter break.

After a while, the white owl that had quietly caught Yves' attention before silently took flight and alighted on a higher branch, keeping watch over the pale shadows around Sarah and her friend. If anyone had noticed it, they would have sworn that the owl looked rather smug.

* * *

Jareth had thoroughly enjoyed his time at the Autumn Leaf ball as thrown by the High King and Queen of the Underealm. Everyone assumed that this was to do with his kingdom's current unparalleled economic growth and stability. Jareth the Goblin King's now century long running success streak. Those few who knew the Goblin King intimately, however, also knew that Medwin was the one to thank for the lack of chicken revolts or goblin strikes. The king carried the burden, but since appointing the gruff half elf as a governor, he had had far more time for the more pressing matters – those which intrigued the king far more than immigration law or tax disputes.

The truth behind Jareth's merriment at the celebration was that which he had overheard in the park several days ago in the Aboveground Realm. He had chuckled over Sarah's carefully mundane reimagining of her labyrinth run, and had felt his heart leap over the words she had said about her 'homecoming king beau.' Perhaps all was not lost.

So in true Fae celebratory form, the Goblin King went ahead and got himself spectacularly inebriated.

He rather regretted it the next morning.

The light pierced the sanctuary of the Goblin King's chambers and its gentle fingers sent stabbing pain through his head. A decidedly un-regal groan of discomfort resonated from his chest as he attempted to hide from the inevitable in his large, comfortable bed: a morning of harshly enforced, goblin-charged hangover and eventual melancholy sobriety. In an attempt to placate himself, he conjured a viewing crystal to spy on his favourite victor of the Labyrinth. There she walked in the cold morning light, a bag over her shoulders, towards the doors of her place of education. As she neared a cluster of people she appeared to know, she acknowledged them with a small smile and gentle greetings. A young blonde fellow bounded up to her and her eyes lit up, appearing to call his name. Yes, there was the young Yew Dryad, doing his job rather well. Jareth had been concerned at first that the dryad might steal Sarah for himself. However in recent times Yves, as he currently called himself, had proven that he was trustworthy in not overstepping certain boundaries.

Jareth continued to watch as Sarah appeared to disarm some dispute amongst her peers before smiling to herself and continuing inside with a smaller group of peers. She would indeed make a great queen, one day.

The king sighed, forcing himself to a sitting position and climbed out of bed, magicking the midnight blue velvet drapes around it completely open. He dispersed the crystal held in his hand, watching as its mist faded into nothingness. With another certain twirl of his fingertips, he was clothed in boots, tight grey wyrmskin pants and a loose white linen shirt.

A gentle breeze stirred in the corner of his room. "You could have been more straightforward with your intentions. Human women respond well to that sort of thing." The High King of the Fae who had just materialised in his son's chambers sighed, a bemused smirk creasing his face. "Really, Jareth. You did rush it. How old was she, again?"

Jareth buried his face into his hands, mumbling "Fifteen. She was fifteen, father."

"A little young for courtship in any culture, don't you think?"

"A point you never fail to remind me of, thank you." Jareth leaned back again, unable to disguise his displeasure. His father laughed heartily at Jareth's disgruntled pout and rose once again to his feet.

"Perhaps you should engage yourself in more activities that benefit your kingdom. Perhaps a few decades of a little extra civic dedication on your part will help you forget the girl."

"You haven't encountered her yet, father. She is truly something extraordinary."

Oberon wandered around the Goblin King's chambers, perusing the odd artefact occasionally, and continued speaking without seeming to pay attention to his son's remarks. "Jareth, you have slipped somewhat in your adherence to your political obligations in the past few years, and while you maintain this land to a more than satisfactory standard..."

Here it comes, Jareth thought, a wry expression threatening to make itself known on his now neutral face.

"…Your mother and I-"

Yes, there it was. The mother mention. And of course, right on cue, there she was. Titania in all her glory, the radiant Fae High Queen, a look of motherly concern gracing her visage as she listened to her husband finish his statement.

"-miss seeing your zeal in rebuilding this kingdom." Titania continued on from her husband, as if she'd been there the entire time. "It's come a long way from the rubble you started with a few centuries ago, dear, you have done a marvellous job with your land and its charges. In addition to gaining the loyalty of the goblins, you have fostered excellent relations in the last two centuries with the elves, dwarves, gnomes and satyrs, who have all established thriving expatriate communities within your boundaries. The forests are well kept, too. But, dearest son, ever since…well, you know…" Tatiana sighed. "We know you miss her, even though your time together was brief."

"Our point is that you need to pull yourself together, Jareth. You're not 200 anymore. You have responsibilities. We have entrusted you with this kingdom and its inhabitants because we believed you fit for the role, over your brothers and sisters who content themselves with their principalities within the other four realms."

"Now, dear, don't be too harsh on the lad." Titania touched her husband's arm gently and the High King turned to look upon his beautiful wife. The high royal couple stopped smiled at each other.

Oberon encouraged, "We know you'll do the right thing. You do need to stop moping, though. If you want to win her affections, try… uh…" The High King, though he had married a human woman in his wife, seemed rather at a loss for advice on successful mortal wooing after millennia of wedded bliss.

Titania laughed and continued for her husband, now lost in thought. "Try being more straightforward and try giving her your time. Human women love that. A little mystery and intrigue makes for an exciting game, but to a young lady like herself…" the queen conjured Jareth's crystal out of the air in the form of a dew drop. Looking into it and seeing Sarah diligently writing in a notebook in class, Titania continued "She will require your honesty, and your word as a regent of the Underealm as well as your heart which you clearly have already given her."

"Try presents." added Oberon who had finished searching his memory for helpful hints.

 _Yes, presents_ , thought Jareth as he bid farewell to his unexpected-parental-high-regent-visitors, feeling somewhat less burdened, if the same level of seedy as he woke up. He went in search of that nectar that the elves kept for dealing with shocking hangovers. He probably should have expected their presence the morning after such merry and raucous behaviour on his part, now that he was honest with himself. They may lead extraordinarily busy and politically charged lives, but weren't stupid and they did care about the welfare of their offspring.

* * *

The cafeteria was crowded with people espousing high levels of school pride and homecoming cheer. The dance was a week away and everyone in the school, student and staff alike, was excited for the event.

Sarah sat with Yves, Chip and Chip's band of loyal followers who were in varying degrees much like Chip himself in intelligence and shape. Their discussion was about homecoming dates and Sarah wasn't paying much attention. Her plan was to go to the dance with a group of friends from the paper.

"Well, will you?"

Sarah looked up from her plate and at Chip, who now knelt next to her at the table. His cronies made ooo-ing noises and whistled. "Sorry, what?"

Chip rolled his eyes. "Sarah, you're the prettiest girl in the school. I'm the most popular jock in the school who isn't a football player. It makes sense that we go to the dance together. Will you come with me?" he rattled off once again.

Sarah stared at him in shock, and looked over at Yves whose usual veneer of calm seemed somewhat disrupted. His eyes were nearly hanging out of their sockets. What a turn of events _! No, no no. Definitely no_ , she thought to herself. Sarah conjured a diplomatic response. "Chip, it's so sweet of you to ask, but"

"Great! It's settled then."

"Wait, Chip –"

"I'll pick you up at six on the night; we'll go together in dad's 'Stang."

"But Chip, I –"

"No need to thank me, I know it means a lot to you, doll."

 _Doll?!_ She mouthed at Yves, who was now very obviously suppressing large amounts of laughter. Jareth was going to be furious, but right now he was going to let himself enjoy his own mirth at Sarah's expense.

"Oh, and wear something that'll match my navy blue tux."

Sarah's mouth hung agape as Chip and his followers got up and swanned off to wherever it was that they spent the rest of their lunch period. Yves took their absence as his opportunity to laugh rauckusly. "Oh you have got to be kidding," He rasped amongst guffaws "Sarah you have to go. Oh, this is priceless. Your face!"

Sarah narrowed her eyes, before calling out to Chip across the room, "Hey Chip, Yves needs a date too. Maybe we can double! Got anyone in mind?"

Yves sobered up quickly and it was Sarah's turn to laugh as Chip motioned a thumbs up from the doorway before disappearing.

* * *

 **A.N the Second: The line quoted is indeed from a poem by Victor Hugo, and thanks to Project Gutenburg, I can share it in its entirety and in English with you now, the line quoted above in bold below:**

 _Since I have touched my lips to your brimming cup,_

 _ **Since I have bowed my pale brow in your hands,**_

 _Since I have sometime breathed the sweet breath_

 _Of your soul, a perfume buried in shadow lands;_

 _Since it was granted to me to hear you utter_

 _Words in which the mysterious heart sighs,_

 _Since I have seen smiles, since I have seen tears_

 _Your mouth on my mouth, your eyes on my eyes;_

 _Since I have seen over my enraptured head_

 _A light from your star shine, ah, ever veiled!_

 _Since I have seen falling to my life's flood_

 _The leaf of a rose snatched from out your days,_

 _Now at last I can say to the fleeting years:_

– _Pass by! Pass by, forever! No more age!_

 _Away with you and all your withered flowers,_

 _I have a flower in my soul no one can take!_

 _Your wings, brushing it, spill never a drop_

 _From the glass I fill, from which my thirst I quench._

 _My soul possesses more fire than you have ashes!_

 _My heart more love than your forgetfulness!_

 **Make of it what you will; I like to think of it as about time. I am twisting it to my purposes to be about our beloved Goblin King and our beautiful Sarah.**

 **Thanks once again for your reviews! I love to hear what people think. My ego is almost as large as Jareth's in that respect. Please, continue feed the ego. ;)**


	3. Three

**A/n: Okay, so I'm really sorry about Chip hijacking the story. I really didn't expect him to do that, he and Yves and Sarah were going to go to the dance together and remain generally on platonic terms… Chip didn't seem to get the memo. It's okay though, this will surely end in a chuckle or two for the rest of us helpless readers/typers.**

 **Miss Granger, I didn't realise it at first, but now that you mention it… He is quite the young Lockhart indeed! Hopefully he won't end up having such a sinister agenda as everyone's favourite narcissistic** _ **Defence against the Dark Arts**_ **Professor…**

 **By the way, I'm not American so I am relying on a steady diet of coming of age films and thorough Wikipedia searching for my information on High School life in the USA. Please let me know if I've made any horrendous errors!**

 **Here we go…. Oh, and WARNING: There's a bit of physical violence later in this chapter.**

Dress shopping is an activity which can strike equal measures of fear and joy into the hearts of mortals, depending on their financial state and general frame of mind, respectively.

Sarah was two minded about the whole affair. Being one who possessed considerable feminine endowments, the right dress would obviously look amazing on her. The trick with any shopping she found was coming across precisely the right piece of clothing… which could take hours, or even days of store combing. Ugh. Fortunately, her stepmother had been able to take the afternoon off and with Toby in tow the three of them had hit one of the fancier malls near their neighbourhood.

It had been three hours, one latte and two pretzels since they started their quest for formalwear and Sarah was not in the best of moods anymore. Still she aimed to maintain a positive outlook on the whole affair.

"How about this one?" Irene held up a ruffled pink taffeta creation with an encouraging look on her face. It wasn't that bad, but –

"There's not exactly very much bust room in there, Irene."

"Oh." The pantsuit wearing woman nodded in understanding. "What about this one?" The next offering appeared to belong to the closets of a 1930s nunnery.

"Well… I'm sure dad would approve of that one." Sarah replied, a chuckle hinting in her voice.

Irene laughed openly at her own goofy offering, glad to see her stepdaughter lightening up a bit. "Oh, Toby! Don't touch that!" The woman hastily shoved the dresses back onto the nearest rail and went after her adventurous son who appeared to be on a mission to the top of a carefully arranged shoe display.

Sarah wandered down the aisles, feeling extraordinarily uninspired by the offerings in this, the final formalwear store in the mall. Then she saw it, sticking out like a sore thumb. How had she not noticed its colour before? The material was soft and billowy. It reminded her of Elven princesses and Autumn evenings by the lake outside of town. It was a deep wine-purple cocktail length dress, its skirt full and draping from the waist down. She had to try it on.

"What did you find – oh, how gorgeous, sweetie!" Sarah's stepmother gushed. She had returned with Toby safely secured to her hip with one arm and was positively enamoured with the dress Sarah held up to herself. It was the right levels of knock-out and modest, sure to appease Irene's husband at least partially. So long as he didn't take exception to the off-shoulder sleeves. Irene practically dragged Sarah to the assistant at the change rooms, who promptly had her installed in the beautiful dress.

Sarah walked out of the change room and looked in the mirrors surrounding her. "Oh, my." The tapered back of the skirt dipped down almost to her feet and created a billowing effect whenever she moved.

"You. Look. Stunning!" The sales assistant, whose usual careful optimism in the face of cautious buyers, freely gushed. And she was right to. The deep purple complimented Sarah's deep brown hair and bright eyes, slightly more grey today, and made her pale skin look radiant.

"Yeah, you're totally, like… a fairy or something!" Another shop assistant said amidst unabashed gawping.

Sarah laughed, for more reasons than apparent to the casual onlooker. "Thanks." She was relieved to finally have found the 'one.' Now, to obliterate her latest few paychecks. Sarah reached for her purse and rummaged around in it to find the envelope she needed amongst her odd scraps of paper when her stepmother stayed her hand.

"No dear, this is a gift. One from your father and I, and your… mother. And her husband, too. We all want you to have a wonderful time at your first senior dance. It's not prom, but it's still special."

"What? Linda and Jeremy? Doing a nice thing?" Sarah asked Irene – unsure whether she should be shocked, sarcastic or saccharine.

"Their check arrived in the mail the other day. Neat, huh?"

"Yeah, neat." Sarah responded quietly, a little lost for words at the sudden generosity being shown by her estranged mother.

Irene smiled and reached out to Sarah, squeezing her hand. She never pretended to understand what Sarah was going through with her mother, and Sarah respected that. But Sarah also appreciated the wordless support her stepmother provided. Irene was more a mother than Linda had ever been, really.

They paid for the dress and left the mall behind, blissfully unaware of the shadows which stirred and followed them.

"Sarah?" It was Hoggle. "May I come in?" The dwarf peered cautiously though the mirror, hoping to avoid accidentally angering his king by seeing his majesty's beloved in a state of dress other than that which he considered publicly acceptable. Puck the cat meowed at him, giving his furriness's approval to Hoggle's entry. Puck and Hoggle had been on decent terms ever since the dwarf had started bringing the cat bunches of a certain herb favoured by felines every so often. Puck was mortified whenever another sentient being saw him with it, and was therefore grateful for Hoggle's discretion.

"Come in, Hoggle," called Sarah from her dressing table. She had been home for a few hours and was taking a little time to pamper herself with a homemade face mask.

"I gots a gift for ya… it's – Ack!"

Sarah chuckled inwardly at the dwarf's shock at the sight of her mud-masked face, but decided to play it straight. "What's wrong, Hoggle? You look shocked."

"Your face, Sarah! You've gots some terrible rash on yer skin! What happened?"

Sarah looked in the mirror innocently and then back at Hoggle. "I don't know what you mean. I don't look any different to me…" she trailed off innocently. Clearly there were some advantages to be found in coming from her mother's talented family line of actors and musicians. Sarah batted her eyelashes once for effect. Watching from beside the mirror, Puck flicked his tail. _Humans._

Hoggle was lost for words; his creased face was his own mask of shock. Sarah had compassion and reached out to hug him, only to be hastily fended off by Hoggle.

"No! Don't come near me, the king will surely bog me if you try to kiss me again. Besides… that could be contagious." He eyed her face warily and waved in its general direction with one hand.

"Don't worry, Hoggle. I was just messing with you. It's just a mud mask to keep my skin nice; I promise it's not a disease or a rash."

"Oh." Hoggle harrumphed, and then promptly recovered. It was hard to stay mad at Sarah. "Anyways, I gots you here a present. It's from, ugh." He took a moment to mentally compose himself for what he had to say next. "That Rat Goblin King told me to give this to ya. He sends his kindest regards and hopes that you find it useful." Hoggle handed Sarah a deep coloured wooden box with solid looking brass accents, hinges and latches. She frowned at the gift, surprised at her ability to contain her shock from this left-field friendly offering from the Goblin King.

"What's the catch?" Sarah stood up straightly and attempted a calm, stern look at her longtime friend. She was sure he wouldn't betray her now, but she still understood these few years later the kind of power that their mutual monarch held. "Last time he asked you to give me something, it ended up being a magic amnesiac sleep fruit!"

"Oh dear," was all Hoggle replied with, looking worriedly over his shoulder at the mirror. A crystal came floating through it and shimmered when it came to the middle of the room. The crystal expanded and glowed brightly before exploding in a shower of glitter. There in the centre of Sarah's bedroom stood one resplendent, frowning Goblin King in the glitter bomb's place.

The King leaned down and spoke conspiratorially to the dwarf. "Well, now, Higgins. What does she think of my gift?" He lifted an eyebrow, looking from the goblin's worried face up to Sarah's mudmasked shock.

 _Oh God, I have a mudmask on and the Goblin King is here. Oh lordy, this is way too surreal_. Sarah wanted to melt into the carpet, she was lost for words and feeling somewhat self conscious about being seen in her old, stretched Muppets shirt and a pair of boxer shorts.

The king stood up and regarded her, ignoring Hoggle's mumbling. He quelched his desire to laugh at the expression partially buried in mud on Sarah's face in favour of politely asking, "My dear Sarah, whatever have you done to your face?" His eyes twinkled with mirth.

"It's a mud mask, your majesty."

"A mud mask? Why would you apply such a filthy substance to your porcelain complexion?"

Crossing her arms, Sarah responded a touch more huffily than she had to anyone in a while. "It's supposed to keep it that way." The King of the Goblins had a way of bringing out her cranky side.

Jareth couldn't help it anymore, the beautiful bog-monster with the cranky expression and misshapen tunic that stood in front of him really was too much. His deep laugh resonated pleasantly from his chest and filled the room. Sarah maintained her reserve and guardedness but smirked despite herself. His majesty conjured a crystal which promptly turned into a small alabaster pot. "If you want to keep your skin looking fresh, you need only apply some of this every now and again. May I?" The Goblin King indicated to the mud mask covering Sarah's face. He honestly thought that she didn't need any cosmetic help, but what he had to offer was much less offensive than having his Sarah spread mud over her face on a regular basis.

"If you insist," she replied warily.

"Oh, but I do." The king smiled and, with a flourish of his right hand, the offending mud mask was whisked away to oblivion. He stepped in close to her, causing a quiet intake of breath from Sarah and for Hoggle to look away in embarrassment. He carefully removed the lid and applied the faintest dabs of the pearlescent cream and smoothed the now highly viscous stuff over her brow and around her cheeks. "There." He stepped back and admired his work.

Sarah's skin tingled pleasantly for a moment and then went back to feeling like regular skin. She reached up and felt her face in the areas that usually contained a perpetual patch of blackheads and discovered that the skin felt smooth. She walked over to her mirror and looked in shock at the literally flawless young woman staring back at her. "What the hell is that stuff?!" she asked, still in reverie over the sudden and complete disappearance of the blemishes she had been battling since she was fourteen.

"Something invented and introduced by the elves to the Underealm a few centuries ago. It's become quite the popular product amongst the Fae."

"I can see why," Sarah marvelled, turning back to him. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Jareth took the moment to imprint her radiant face into his memory. It had been such a long time since he'd seen her so close. Her cheeks were glowing; her eyes which were now locked on his were brimming with spirit. A smile hinted at the corner of –

An unimpressed miaow shifted the king's attention to the floor beside the mirror and broke any tension in the air. He turned around and looked down upon Puck, who was unimpressed about being ignored for so long. His lineage demanded more respect than he felt had been paid. His fluffy white tail flicked. The Goblin King smiled pointily at the cat. "I know royalty when I see it. Hello, your highness." Jareth bowed theatrically, much to the pleasure of Puck who thrived upon acknowledgement, and to the amusement of Sarah. She laughed silently in order to avoid upsetting the two members of nobility present.

"Jareth," she said solemnly, "I'd like you to meet Puck."

"Ah, an apt name for a feline of such a spirit." Jareth stood back up, smirking at Sarah.

 _Finally,_ thought Puck, another being who understood how important and ancient his family was. Puck was satisfied with this transaction and hopped up onto Sarah's bed. He curled up and began to snooze while purring like a chainsaw.

Jareth glanced sideways at the cat one more time before continuing with his original purpose for the unannounced arrival in Sarah's quarters. _That damned dwarf._ The king looked across the room at Hoggle, who was now very engrossed in the record titles strewn around the stereo. "Hogbreath, come here again and do bring that box with you. Please be careful with it," the King implored with a warning note in his voice as the dwarf slipped on a record. A pair of goblins who had appeared on top of the wardrobe laughed at his misfortune until Sarah looked up at them, at which they decided it was best to mind their manners a little more.

"Now, precious. My gift." The King took the gift out of the hands of the dwarf, dusted it off somewhat and presented it to Sarah.

It was hard to trust any gift from the goblin king after the peach. But looking into his unusual eyes, she saw no trace of deceit. She accepted the box and unlatched the solid clasps to look inside the shallow, velvet lined box. _This can't be happening_ , she thought to herself _. This is clearly another random Labyrinth themed dream_. But the scent of the mud mask mixture still wafted from her dressing table, and the box, now open in her hands felt weighty and very real. Cool, silky smooth wood.

"I merely seek to strengthen the bond of friendship between the two of us, dear one." The Goblin King smiled genuinely as he spoke the words. He watched her with a calm expression on his face, but he was eager to see what she thought of the gift.

"I… wow." Sarah was thoroughly impressed by the beautiful stationery set that she now looked over. Laid in purpose-created grooves were an array of silver pen nibs, engraved with intricate swirling vine and flower patterns; a supply of indigo sealing wax and ink of the same rich, deep colour as well as midnight black; and finally a robust, perfectly preened snow-white quill, its edges and tip gilt in bright silver. Sarah pulled open a little drawer to find a supply of fine quality parchment, as well as a set of three pearlescent fountain pens, engraved with the same patterns as the nibs, with crystalline caps. "Really, wow. These are amazing. Thank you, your Majesty," she murmured as her eyes continued to soak in the beautiful writing set. As an aspiring author and stationery nerd, this gift… well, it rocked her world.

"Please Sarah, call me Jareth. We have known each other for far too long to keep with such formalities." Jareth's voice in his response to her gratitude was as smooth as silk and warm as a summer breeze. He concealed his complete elation at her appreciation with a generalised and half hearted admonition in Hoggle's direction for sullying Sarah's carpet with his dirty shoes.

The King continued his response at length, "I am pleased that you like the set. I look forward to hearing what prose and poetry springs forth from it." He smiled his pointy smile and without giving Sarah room for another word, he vanished in a haze of glitter. The pair of goblins followed suit, albeit with far less finesse.

"Bah," grumped Hoggle, "Just cause he's bein' nice don't mean you can trust him. Be careful, Sarah." And with that, Hoggle slipped an ecstatic and now very awake Puck his stash of catnip and wandered back through the mirror to the underground.

Jareth sat at his desk in his spacious office adjoining the grand library, reading and signing documents of varying importance and similar levels of boring when Medwin stalked in.

"You look like you have news," stated Jareth without actually looking up. Medwin had walked in with his I-have-important-news gait which after over a century had become somewhat familiar to the Goblin King.

Medwin harrumphed. "Remember the Bolg scouts I told you about, following the girl?"

"Young woman," Jareth corrected.

"Yes, her."

"Well?" Jareth prodded. Not that he needed to. Medwin was shifting around as if he was fit to burst.

"The scouts –"

"Formless ones, bright eyes, inky black all over?" Jareth enquired with a sly smile in an attempt to irritate Medwin some more. It was fun to watch his conflicting heritage swim over his features. Was he going to be crisp and diplomatic, or was he going to yell? He'd never yet had to threaten Medwin with a bogging; he was such a reliable sort to have around. Jareth wondered what would happen if he did.

"Yes, the formless inky black creatures with eerily bright eyes, Sire," grumbled Medwin. Lands, the King could be annoying when he wanted to be.

"Following the young woman?"

"YES!" Medwin's eyes widened when he realised he'd just yelled at the king. A veneer of reserve overcame him and he repeated, "Yes, your Majesty."

Jareth laughed aloud, standing and walking around the desk to drape an arm around his right hand man's shoulder. "You really are a lot of fun to toy with, Medwin." The king's laughter settled somewhat, his smile still comfortably arranged on his face. "Now, tell me Medwin, these scouts. You've come to inform me that we've vanquished them, yes?" Jareth let go of the half-elf and leaned back against the edge of his desk.

Medwin was put at ease by the Monarch's candid manner and reverted to his usual communication style with him. "I wish I could tell you that, Jareth, but that would mean lying on my part and the first time you've not enjoyed a good bogging on yours."

"Ah." Jareth's face grew sombre. "Tell me then, what is to be done?"

"We already have the Yew keeping a close eye, but due to the… restrictions… you placed on how close the young lad could get to her," Jareth smirked darkly and Medwin rolled his eyes as he continued, "we have no way of protecting her in her home without appearing obvious. We do not wish to put her on edge in this pivotal period of her mortal existence. I hear this 'Senior Year' is quite an important part of the human rite of passage these days. If there were some creature we could ally with, a bird or rodent, perhaps…"

"I have an idea of my own." Jareth laid out his plan to his right hand man who nodded in agreement.

"Yes, excellent plan. We should implement it at once."

Sarah tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and did a last makeup check. Homecoming was the biggest event on the calendar outside of prom this school year, and it was her last homecoming dance before college. She was determined to have a memorable time, Chip or no Chip. She ran her hands down the front of her dress, turning left and right, watching it swish.

"Sarah…pretty." Ludo informed her through the mirror in the most enthusiastic voice she had ever heard him muster.

Sir Didymus added authoritatively, "Quite right there, my dear brother. Verily I say unto you, Lady Sarah, you are positively resplendent this evening."

"Yeah, those kids at the ball's not gonna know what's hit 'em," supplied Hoggle gruffly. Sarah's reflection was rather crowded this evening.

"Thanks guys," Sarah responded to them, smiling brightly. Her friends never failed to cheer her along when she was feeling nervous. She picked up her black clutch which matched the shoes she wore and walked out the door with a wave to her friends and her cat.

A horn sounded in the driveway and Sarah groaned inwardly. Of course Chip was the kind of guy to lean on the horn outside the house. "Is that Chuck?" she heard her father call from the study near the front door. Sarah descended the stairs and her stepmother took a snap with a Polaroid camera.

"Yeah, probably," replied Sarah without bothering to correct her father on her friend's name.

"Oh darling, you look so beautiful," spouted Irene, enraptured with the ensemble of step daughter in front of her. She wasn't wrong, either – Sarah looked positively regal. Her father emerged from the office and saw how splendid his daughter looked.

"You look real swell, sweetie," he said and kissed the top of her head. Her father was not known for his way with words, let alone compliments, so that was something big. Sarah hugged him happily.

"Thanks dad."

The horn sounded again and Sarah peeked through the window while her father grumbled about etiquette and back in his day. "I'd better not keep everyone waiting," she said, peeking out one more time to get a closer look.

In the vintage convertible Mustang crookedly parked in the driveway sat Chip, wearing his 'midnight blue' suit and hanging languidly out one side, grinning his most nonchalant grin with one hand on the steering wheel. Yves sat in the back with a pretty blonde (probably a from the cheer squad) who appeared to be tittering delightedly while lounging all over his left side. His face was the picture of strained disgruntlement. Sarah walked out the door, turning her mirth at her friend's expense into a charming smile.

"Hey, wow." said Chip, admiring her at length. It was nice to be visually appreciated by a guy, even if that guy was Chip. He jumped out of the car and let Sarah in the other side.

"Thanks, Chip."

The car ride was fun. Chip even acquiesced to the girls' insistence on listening to Tina Turner on the way there. When they weren't messing around to some song or other on the stereo in the car, Yves was fending off Charlotte (as her name turned out to be – and no, she was not a cheer leader, she was a member of the calisthenics team) and trying to avoid her increasing requests for him to "Say something French, Ivy League!"

The dance was located in the Gym, which had been transformed into a crepe paper wonderland of school pride. The school's colours were plastered in all shapes and forms throughout the entire Gym and the live music was pumping out the building at an acceptably loud level.

The group wandered in together, Charlotte and Chip hanging off of their respective dates and chattering excitedly. The band playing on the stage erected on the other side of the room was striking in their black suits with red ties and matching sunglasses. An uneasy feeling passed through Sarah as she passed a glance their way, though she rationalised it away. _Loads of bands these days wear shades while performing_ , she reminded herself. Their black sunglasses left a stain of discomfort somewhere deep in the pit of her stomach regardless.

The girls stowed their belongings on chairs against the gym wall and the two pairs got down to the business of dancing. The first hour was quite pleasant despite Chip's babbling on about his wrestling team – in fact it saved Sarah from having to make much of an effort, which she was glad for. He was quite a graceful dancer, too. She supposed that had something to do with his wrestling training. As it turned out, his team's coach had made them all take a semester of dance to improve their footwork. Go figure. Sarah noticed that Yves was not his usual graceful self; he stumbled more than once as he craned his neck towards the band.

They swapped partners for a dance and Sarah expressed her irksome feeling about the band to Yves. Instead of laughing, Yves gravely nodded his head. "Yeah, something's not right…" he trailed off. They finished the dance in silence. As soon as the music finished, Yves found himself dragged off by a giggling and reignited Charlotte. Clearly Chip had been quoting his finer qualities to her again. Sarah's worry left her for a moment as she chuckled at Chip's stellar wingman skills.

Chip was dancing with her again. Sarah was actually enjoying herself. She relaxed and began to really enjoy the company of her odd but endearing friend. That feeling faded somewhat when Chip decided to flirt, Chip-style, when the band began to play a slower song. When he tried to move his hands further south than was appropriate in her eyes, she stepped on his toes. Fortunately he seemed smart enough to get the idea and offered to go and fetch some refreshments.

Time slowed from the moment that Sarah found herself alone for the first time that night, even though it was only for a few moments – she could see Chip approaching with two glasses of strictly unspiked punch. But he was too slow, too far away. The bass suddenly dropped out of the music. Sarah looked towards the stage and saw the bassist had abandoned his instrument and the stage, and he was moving towards her. He was jostled by an amorous senior and his date, which knocked his dark sunglasses off. Behind them were large, luminous yellow eyes without pupils. He looked directly at her and grinned mirthlessly. _Shit_. The bassist took exception to the disturbance and roared at the teenager before grasping him by the shoulder and tossing him effortlessly to the edge of the room, knocking a few other teens to the ground like skittles. Screaming broke out as the rest of the band began playing _Under Pressure_ as if nothing amiss was going on. The second guitarist must have picked up the bass, she noticed idly, because otherwise it just wouldn't have sounded right. _It's funny what the brain will pick up on under pressure._

Another teen got in the original bassist's way and he tossed her aside too, bowling over a portly librarian and two members of the math club. Pandemonium had broken out, but Chip bravely rushed to Sarah's aid.

"Leave her alone!" He screamed, throwing the punch glasses, liquid and all, at the leer wearing bassist with the frightening eyes. The bassist ignored him until he stepped in the way and attempted unsuccessfully to wrestle the bassist to the ground. "RUN, SARAH!"

Sarah did not run, terrified as she was. The music stopped. Where was Yves? She was terrified for her missing friend. She shouted at the people cowering around her to get to safety as the rest of the band abandoned their posts and started to make their way through the bedlam, kicking and tossing aside people that got in their way. The other human-like creatures became rather involved in the general scuffle; she saw them smiling creepy little half smiles as they maimed students and chaperones that happened to get in their way.

Sarah was terrified at the senseless, random violence surrounding her. The metallic scent of blood stung her nose. Bodies were being tossed haphazardly; the crack of braking furniture and bone; the bloodcurdling screams of terrified boys and girls. It was too horrible, it was too much. Something swelled deep within her chest and she shrieked over the bedlam, "You will NOT harm these innocent people!" The Bolg stopped in their tracks and looked at Sarah confusedly, her words reverberating around the insides of their skulls. Their vision cleared after a moment and they started heading for her. _Shit shit shit._

This was the scene that an irate Yves and another wild eyed man brandishing an axe and wearing a kilt suddenly appeared amidst, with one gloriously angry Goblin King marching towards the chaos from between them. Fury billowed from his very being, reflected in the glint on the black leather boots, pants and armour in which he was clad. Yves looked startlingly different as well – his hair was unusually wild and there was a faint glow about his features she'd never seen before.

One glance of the irate Goblin King and his quirky but fearsome offsiders, and the Bolg began to back off.

"Not so tough now, are ya?" Rasped Chip from under the disorganised punch table.

"Shut up, Chip!" barked Yves, still staring darkly at the evil creatures disguised as men, waiting for them to be clear of the innocents. As soon as they were, the Goblin king gave a subtle nod and began hurling crystals at them. Explosions and shattering sounds rattled the gym which was oddly quiet aside from all the commotion surrounding the Bolg, the Goblin King and his men. Chunks of roof clattered to the floor, exploding into dust on impact with the ground. Suddenly, the Bolg found themselves entangled in great roots and vines that had burst up from the ground, and being dragged into the earth. In a matter of moments all that was left were a pair of sunglasses or two, sitting innocently on the mangled basketball court. Jareth reached picked a pair up and tossed them to Yves, who put them on and grinned. Jareth smirked in return.

Sarah stood there in shock. For once in her life, she was completely lost for words. She looked at Jareth as he approached her, barely moving when he embraced her. With a rueful smile, he brushed his hand over her eyes just-so, sending her into a sleep. "Take her home, Yves."

Yves obeyed.

"What the fuck just happened, dude?!" Chip croaked. A stream of obscenities streamed from his mouth as he surveyed the damage, and a cry of pain escaped his lips as he realised he had broken a wrist and several fingers.

Medwin wordlessly rolled his eyes. Jareth sighed and conjured a crystal.

The gym was in ruins and many people were severely injured. Despite that, no one was dead. No deaths was a stroke of luck, thought the Goblin King. An enchantment had seen to the possibility of anyone remembering anything other than the gym roof's collapse. He chuckled at the thought of theYew having to explain his affiliation with Jareth to Sarah. He might just go and watch for the chuckle at Yves's expense.

 **A/N: So, Sarah's senior year was meant to be confined to one chapter, or two. Tops. It seems to have…ballooned… but I'm not complaining.**

 **This chapter is unedited it, I have a problem in that when I finish a chapter late at night, it MUST be uploaded. Please let me know if I've made any grave errors or if you spot any serious inconsistencies so that I can fix them before putting up the next chapter.**

 **Thanks once again for your reviews and follows! It doth make my heart light to see you all enjoying these words.**


	4. Four

Darkness. Wild cries, screams. Unearthly roars. Blistering light. Terror. Salvation. A flurry of feathery hair. Embrace. Confusion. Tenderness. Uneven pupils in storm cloud blue eyes. Peace. Darkness.

Sarah carefully opened her eyes, the bleary light of midmorning filtering through partially drawn blinds. On the edge of her bed sat Irene, her stepmother. Since Sarah had let Irene be more a part of her life, the woman had taken up with fervour the adventure that was mothering a teenager. It seemed like today was going to be one of those chicken-soup-and-tissue-boxes days. She didn't mind, it was nice to be looked after when she wasn't feeling great. Puck meowed as Sarah stirred, purring when she reached out to scratch his chin. The human had a magnificent way with chin rubs.

Sarah strained to remember what had happened last night at homecoming that had led to her feeling this poorly. The last thing she could remember with clarity was Chip with the glasses of punch – that jerk! It had better not have been spiked, or his ass was due to be kicked into the next millennium.

"That was one heck of a homecoming, huh?" Irene smiled sympathetically, patting at Sarah's hair.

"What happened?" Sarah asked cautiously.

"The gym roof collapsed. A bunch of kids got pretty hurt, but everyone is alive and in one piece."

"Oh." Bright eyes flashed in her memory, causing Sarah to jump. Irene took it as a response to the news she had just given her and tilted her head in understanding. Sarah managed to maintain her collectedness as she very clearly and suddenly remembered what had happened the previous night.

"It's a trying thing you've been through. Your friend brought you home after the nurse checked you over and declared you fit but exhausted. We let him stay the night when we saw how worried he was about you." Irene's face took on the appearance of a knowing mother. Her stepdaughter had an admirer. Finally. She hoped that he was man enough to stick around, for Sarah's sake and his. "He wanted to see you when you woke up. Is that okay?" Irene asked gently.

"Who is it?"

"Yves."

Sarah looked away and frowned. Yves had looked very at home around the Goblin King and the muscular Scottish guy. And the violence. And the weird magical stuff. What happened to Chip?

At length Sarah chose her response carefully and supplied it. "Yeah, I'll talk to him." Sarah shimmied herself up in bed, rubbing her head. She saw that her dress was draped over the back of her chair, smudges and dust through its skirts.

"Alright, I'll let him up. Make sure you two leave the door open."

"Irene!"

The older woman laughed, glad to see that Sarah still had her spirit about her. "And don't worry about your dress, we'll get it dry-cleaned. There's nothing really wrong with it, just a few marks. You came out quite well for someone so near to the impact." Irene handed Sarah a glass of water and patted her affectionately on the knee through the bed sheets. Sarah smiled at her step mother as the woman left the room.

In the minute between Irene leaving the room and Yves arriving, Sarah mentally assessed everything she had been through the night before: the pleasant first couple of hours, the unease of Yves, the creepy band that had turned out to be… something beyond weird and quite frankly horrifying… and then their bizarre fate. And Jareth. And why had Yves looked so different? Sure, he wore the same clothes and had the same physical features. But his very being had radiated a faint light, and his hair looked like it was full of leaves as well as longer. And the tattoos. They were weird too. Maybe she had hallucinated. Given her run with the mythical in the past few years, however, she doubted it. Sarah had always found it easy to except the surreal and the impossible, that was a part of who she was. But deception still hurt, and not having all the information was frustrating.

Yves walked in. Sarah looked hard at him. He looked the way he had always done. She felt a combination of deep confusion, anger, frustration and gratitude. Mostly the confusion.

"So, uh," Yves started, scratching the back of his head nervously, "How are you?" he shifted his weight from one foot to the other and back again a few times in the awkward silence that followed.

"I'm… a lot of things."

Yves began to pace. "I'm not going to assume that –"

"Yves, I remember everything. And it's confusing." Sarah blurted out over the top of him.

"Oh. Well. I should probably expl–"

"Yeah, you should. Also, sit down. Your nervous pacing is making me even antsier."

"Oh. Okay." Yves looked carefully into her eyes. Yep, there was a lot of anger in there. Also deep confusion… and… hurt? Hurt.

"I want to understand. We're friends, right? What the hell happened last night?"

"This is going to take a while. Promise not to yell until the end?"

The first _that's not fair_ in literal years presented itself in Sarah's conscious mind at that comment, but she chose to stamp it out. Yves had protected her, and had been a good friend so far. He deserved a chance to explain himself, and a chance for redemption if necessary. In the moment that Sarah chose diplomacy over her childish desire to scream and stamp, she took another step towards becoming the remarkable woman she was destined to be. She still reserved the right to use sarcasm and roll her eyes at Yves and made sure she did so with dramatic flair. "Whatever, Sure."

"I'll start with the bombshells. You can yell at me for these, I suppose that's fair. Just not too loud though please, I don't want your parents to kick me out. At least not until you have the full story."

"Go on," Sarah sat up straight, her face going a slightly greyer shade than normal.

"I know about the Goblin King, the Underealm, the Labyrinth, and the creatures there. And, uh, there's also this." Yves stood up and before Sarah could respond, he lifted his hands above his head. Tiny leaves spun out of nowhere around him for several seconds, a quiet whispering filling the room, and then they were gone again. Yves' hair was longer, a lot wilder, and filled with leaves, feathers and various small metal and wooden charms. His arms and neck were covered with winding tessellating leaf patterns and his entire physical self radiated soft green light. Sarah shrank back against her headboard, pulling the sheets tightly up to herself. She was in too much shock to scream, she just stared at him in slack jawed terror.

"Hey, please don't be scared of me." Yves backed into the opposite corner of the room, his hands raised in supplication. "I would never dream of hurting you." His face was a picture of sorrow and anxiety, which cracked Sarah's heart. One of her best friends was a dwarf who talked to her through a mirror, another a giant hairy rock caller, and still another was an anthropomorphic fox. She was not about to judge Yves for being something other than human, she was not speciesist. If she hadn't been so utterly terrified after the crazy events in the past twelve hours, she'd have ignored the present weirdness and jumped out of bed and given him a hug. But this new and completely insane arcane demonstration was the icing on her twelve hour magic freak-show cake. This sure as hell demanded an explanation. Pronto.

"Yves?! What the hell?!" She squeaked out.

"Like I said, loads to explain."

"Uh, fuck yeah."

Yves looked at her slack jawed.

"What?" Sarah asked, thrown off-guard by his shocked expression.

"In all the years I've known you I have _never_ heard you swear."

"Are you serious?!" Sarah couldn't help but laugh. "After everything, I mean EVERYTHING that has happened… torch eyed guys destroying the gym and anyone in their path, the freaking GOBLIN KING blustering in with you and some kilted commando and beating the living shit out of them" – Yves winced once again at the expletive – "And then waking up here to be told there was a structural problem that everyone believes in and nobody is talking about the… I mean, seriously. And now you with your twig hair and secret glowy tats. All of that, and you're _shocked_ to hear me swear?" Sarah began to laugh hysterically before breaking into hiccups. Yves cautiously approached the young woman, proffering the jug of water her step mother had left on the dressing table.

"Um. More water?"

Sarah held out her glass and Yves filled it. Sarah took a sip and looked her friend over. "Okay. Sit. Talk, leaf man."

Yves sat down on the edge of her bed, fidgeting with one of the charms in his leafy hair. "Uh, okay. The correct term is Dryad by the way." Yves paused, looking back up at her.

"Keep talking." Sarah's face was stern. Her emotional state was all over the place, but she wanted to understand. She wanted to trust Yves. But she was so freaking angry with him for hiding such a massive secret all this time from her! She wondered how much she'd have trusted some random mythological creature introducing itself and asking to be friends, and remembered Ludo the first time she'd met him in the maze. It was super weird, but even then she went along with it. For some reason it had made sense. This conversation was already super weird. She supposed it couldn't get much weirder, or worse.

"When you were five, my mother found you wandering in one of the forests inside the Labyrinth."

"Is she a Dryad too?"

"No, she's human. That's why I can look human as well as like a tree spirit." Yves thought Sarah was taking this rather well. Most human beings would have gone insane by now.

"Okay."

"Anyway, like I was saying, she found you and sent word to Jareth, because human dreamers rarely found their way into the woods – "

"What do you mean, dreamers?"

"People in your world sometimes find themselves walking the Labyrinth in their sleep. They dream themselves there accidentally. It happens to maybe one in every 100,000 people, once in their lifetime. Twice, maybe, if they're special. Or lucky."

"Okay. So you say I was there when I was five?"

"Yeah, in the forest. Please try not to interrupt my story."

Sarah nodded, frowning.

"So, my mother told Jareth, who came to watch over you. He likes to make sure children who find themselves there have pleasant dreams. I think he likes the break from all the politics, too." Sarah chose to leave that one alone – the King she thought she knew lived for his own pleasure and it made no sense, his dabbling in whatever politics existed in the Underealm. "Only, he recognised you. You'd been there not two days beforehand in the hedge maze. He remembered seeing you touch its walls, and watching the Labyrinth grow flowers for you. You were someone very special. So, he told my mother to find you a playmate. So she went and found me. We spent a lot of time together… got ourselves into a lot of trouble." Yves laughed. "You had a knack for bringing things from your world with you. No idea how. You brought a massive bronze train, once."

Sarah opened her eyes wide, remembering one of her very vivid dreams as a child, the kind that had stayed with her all these years later. "You… you're the blonde boy I used to dream about? We ran from that train faster than I thought it was possible to run when it derailed on a sharp corner. Another time we sky dived from the back of a phoenix without parachutes in the mountains! You! I thought I made you up. I never told anyone about those things." Sarah had lost all hope for expressing herself accurately; she didn't even know how to feel accurately at this point.

Yves smiled. "Yeah you didn't." It all stopped when we were fourteen, though – "

"No wonder you were familiar when I met you – Oh, God. The last time I saw you before this year. I kissed you. My last dream of you was kissing you. It turned into a nightmare."

"Yeah, that was weird, I wasn't going to mention it, but since you did… and Jareth by that point had decided, well. He didn't take too kindly by then to people expressing more than caring devotion towards you. No human in nearly 1,000 years has spent as much time a dreamer in the labyrinth as you have. Anyway, I cared a lot about you, but by then you were like a sister to me."

"Friend zoned, even in my dreams." Sarah laughed bitterly.

"Come on, Sarah. It wasn't like that. And I thought you didn't believe in the friend zone."

"Well yeah, but don't go using that against me now!" She laughed. Remembering herself, she resettled her frown on her face. "Keep talking, leaf man."

"Dryad. Of the Great Yew. Don't patronise me, Sarah Williams. Flesh woman." He stuck out his tongue in a childish manner, which made Sarah want to laugh again, but she maintained her cool veneer. "So from then on, I watched you from afar to make sure nothing dark came near you. With that much Labyrinthine magic a part of who you were, the king was extra concerned with your wellbeing both day and night. That same year, I started attending your school and keeping the shadows away from you during the day, too – "

"You've been stalking me for three years?!"

"Not stalking, guarding."

"Shadow creatures?"

"That's where it gets weird. We don't know why they're following you…" when Yves said this, Sarah shivered. "Hey, it's okay –"

"No it bloody well isn't!" Sarah retorted. "Keep going anyway, I want to know everything." She folded her arms tight against her chest.

"They're called the Bolg, and Medwin, that's the kilt guy – he's half elf, half dwarf," Sarah raised an eyebrow at this. "Loooong story," continued Yves. "Anyway Medwin thinks they're attracted to the Labyrinthine Magic that courses through your system from all your unguarded exposure to our realm in your formative years. Jareth thinks it's something else, but they both insisted I take care of you."

"So…your friendship has been fake? Something you were forced to do, all this time?!" The pain was evident in the voice of Sarah as this potential horrible reality dawned on her.

"No! No, you're one of my dearest friends. You have been since before you even knew I existed. Please don't ever think otherwise, Sarah. My job has been to guide and guard you, but my choice was to befriend you. You seemed like such a fun person. When you weren't whining."

"Hey!"

"Don't deny it, you were a brat when you didn't get your own way."

"Shut up, Twiggy." Sarah smirked despite herself. She could tree-pun all day and Yves was going to pay for being a secret keeping ass.

"Dryad. Cut that out."

"Sheesh, anyone would think it was _your_ best friend who turned out to be hiding, oh, _everything_ from you," Sarah retorted.

Yves sighed and their conversation returned to its previously serious note.

"Look, Sarah. I get that this has messed around your world… yet again…. You can choose to end our friendship; no one is making you be kind to me. I'd understand that." Yves face held a new and inexplicable sorrow in that moment when he paused. "But there is no way in this realm or any other that I will ever stop watching over you. Jareth may have tasked me with your wellbeing, but over the years you have become my sister." The dryad turned his face away to hide the pain his own words brought to the surface, but not before Sarah caught a glimpse of the emotion hidden within him. Her eyes filled with tears as she gripped his hand.

"This doesn't mean I'm any less mad, Yves. Or whatever your name is turns out to be. But thanks."

"Just Yves, for now."

Their friendship had survived the great gym collapse. It would never be quite the same, but that didn't mean that it would never be as wonderful. If anything, with the truth now aired, a new bond of familial affection was formed between them.

Sarah still had a lot of questions, but she was tired. A lot of what Yves had said had raised more than double the questions she'd started with. But her faith in her friend was restored, and even though it sounded like a horde of dark creatures were after her, she felt protected.

"Ugh, my brain. I need to rest." Sarah stroked Puck who was sitting on the opposite side of her to Yves. The cat continued to purr.

"That's okay. I'll come visit you later. Or tomorrow?" asked Yves uncertainly.

"Later is okay, if you check with mo- Irene." She smiled at her own slip up. That woman had really grown on her. "One more thing, how come the goblins haven't been around much?"

"Oh, the king ordered them to give you some space. Hoggle told him that they were annoying you." Yves walked towards the door and Sarah smiled after him.

"Hey, Treebeard,"

Yves rolled his eyes. She was almost as bad as the King with the name-calling.

Sarah continued, "You might want to de-twig-and-tat yourself before you go through that door."

"Oh yeah." They grinned at each other as Yves did his swirly leaf thing again, and once he was back to looking like a regular person, Yves walked through the door.

Once the door was closed, Sarah sipped her water and pulled Puck unceremoniously onto her lap. Running her fingers through his fur, she let tears spill down her cheeks. She pulled the cat into a hug, sobbing into his fur. Puck swallowed the indignity of the situation and kept his struggling to a believable minimum. After all, she did seem rather upset. This human was worth it. Besides, the king had visited yesterday and promised untold treasure for his cooperation in the Sarah Protection Effort.

Outside her window, a white owl watched her deal with her emotions. Jareth wished to be trusted enough to share her burden. One day she would let him. Hopefully.

* * *

"Everyone thinks Chip and I are dating since the gym incident." Sarah huffed one early November afternoon as her and Yves worked on a script for their drama class together.

Yves sat back and regarded her with a mischievous grin. "Well, aren't you?"

"No!" Sarah replied emphatically.

"What would make them think that?" enquired Yves.

"Well, everyone remembers his heroics at pushing me to safety, or something…"

"Ah." Yves looked back down, scrutinizing his handwriting as Sarah continued to talk.

"And I hugged him when I saw him on the first day he came back to school…"

"I see."

"But everybody hugged him!"

"They sure did."

"And he follows me everywhere."

"Uh huh."

"But he always has!"

"Truth, little sister."

"Are you even listening?"

"Definitely."

"Can I have one of your hair charms?"

"Of course you – hey!" Yves had explained that they were a part of his coming of age ceremony in dryadic culture, and that to lose one was shameful. To give one away was a marriage proposal. Yves had also told Sarah about his beloved, a princess in a neighbouring kingdom by the name of Mirana of Marmoreal. Sarah didn't believe it, but Yves insisted it was true.*

Sarah laughed, and then sobered once again. "Good, you are paying attention. I'm sick of the dirty looks from random girls and the others attempting to befriend me for social status, now that I am viable social property to invest in."

"Welcome to the high school popularity hierarchy, my lady."

"I don't get how you know so much about all of this. You don't even come from here."

Yves laughed at the unintentional Mean Girls misquote. "Research. And as for the psycho juniors and seniors after your throat or your friendship points, that's a part of being in high school at any level of the game. I'm surprised you hadn't noticed sooner, to be honest." He smiled genuinely. "Don't worry! We're nearly halfway through the year already. Not long until we're thrust into the world of college."

"Thanks, you're real good at the whole assurance thing," said Sarah with dripping sarcasm.

Yves laughed and went back to poring over their script.

* * *

"Oh dear," Said the Goblin King loudly and deliberately, lounging on his throne in the currently bustling throne room full of goblins and dwarves. It was late December and his subjects were preparing for the Feast of the New Year that he had invited the nobility and important political figures to. Well, the dwarves were preparing. The goblins appeared to be more of a hindrance to the effort. The king continued, "Whatever am I going to do with this?" A piece of jewellery dangled from his leather gloved index finger. He sighed dramatically, catching the attention of a small number of his goblin subjects. A dwarf noticed too, but rolled her eyes and continued on to the kitchens.

"What is it, Kingy?" asked a small goblin with a shy, gravelly voice. It wore a finger print and stain covered apron as a cloak.

"This, my dear little Quoke? This is a gift fit for a Queen. I just can't think of a lady lovely enough to give it to for Winter Solstice, though. What a shame," he continued, looking sideways at the increasing horde around him, "I think I'll just have to…throw it away."

A pot bellied goblin with a red ribbon woven through his thin hair piped up enthusiastically. "We know, Kingy! We can gives it to the Lady!"

"I have no idea what you mean, Choom."

"The Lady Sarah!"

"Lady Sarah of the Labyrinth!"

"Lady! Lady lady lady!"

A cacophony of varying odes to the Lady and other solstice gift ideas erupted, and the Goblin King smiled archly. Excellent.

Choom the red ribboned goblin sang loudly, "And we can wrap it and gives it and tell her it's a gift from kingy and they will be friends and won't it be – _Aaaargh!"_

A frowning goblin king had, with an elegant turn of his hand, caused the goblin to be suspended in the air. The red ribbon unwound from its hair and wrapped loosely around its body and limbs, tying bows and knots from its nose to its knees. With a dark grin, the Goblin King sent Choom flying out through the nearest window.

"Wheeeeee–!"

The goblins calmed down a notch.

"What a lovely gift for you dear, dear goblins to give to Lady Sarah. A fitting gift indeed." Jareth ignored the disgusted mumbling from the dwarves attempting to clean up the mess made by the goblins on the other side of the room.

* * *

 _Ffft._

Sarah looked up from her English homework towards the short fizzing sound coming from the other side of the room. It was winter break and she was sprawled on her stomach and surrounded by books and papers, feet swaying in time with the music coming from her record player in the corner. She wore a mismatched ensemble: grey tank top and brightly coloured shorts with knee high white socks, and a long brown woollen cardigan over the top. Her cat, who had up until this point swished his tail at appropriate intervals while napping on an important text book, woke with a start and his attention followed Sarah's. Her large green eyes met the small black ones of a goblin wearing a feather-tressed colander on its head.

 _Pop._

Another goblin appeared right next to the colander topped one, and for reasons unknown this one was wrapped and knotted from nose to knees in a dirt-stained red ribbon. They peered at her from the dresser they perched on, a mess of hessian and string in their grubby little claws. "Merry Solstice, Lady!" they called excitedly as they jumped down and scurried over to her, fighting over the bundle on their way. Several more bizarrely dressed goblins fizzed and popped into physicality around her room and scurried to the edge of her bed with greetings, gifts and cheers for Solstice and the Lady. Sarah laughed heartily as the goblins chattered over one another excitedly, wondering what their Lady was going to think of their presents.

Solstice had been nearly a week ago, but Sarah was not one to burst the bubble of a bunch of bright eyed, eager-to-please creatures of legend. Besides, having just celebrated Christmas with her family, her room was already somewhat in disarray with stray pieces of wrapping paper and handmade gifts from her three year old brother and numerous young cousins. How could a few more from the goblins hurt?

The goblins piled small wrapped concoctions around her on the bed and bickered over whose was to be opened first. Sarah managed to sort the goblins into some semblance of order and set about unwrapping bundles of interesting sticks, metal thingamajigs and shiny plastic beads concealed in large leaves, hessian scraps and cast away parchment obviously found in the otherwise ignored corners of the Underground and the human world.

Sarah couldn't believe how much she'd actually missed having these little terrors around. They were quite dear to her, and seemed to be rather fond of her too. She half wondered what had made the king suddenly decide to let them return.

After waiting what he considered a long enough time, the feather-decked-colander goblin thrust a bundle onto her books and amongst the other unwrapped presents, right under her nose and the goblins quieted, looking intently up at Sarah.

"My! What have we here, Murk?" She asked the colander clad goblin with an eyebrow arched ever so slightly.

"Solstice present for the Lady from all the goblins," responded Quoke who was pressed up against the edge of the bed next to Murk.

"You're very kind, Quoke. Thank you, all of you." The apronned goblin smiled a pointy little smile and batted her eyelashes at Sarah's praise. Sure, their timing was a few days off, but she wasn't about to point that out to her thronging fan club who now buzzed with near tangible glee.

"Open it, Lady!"

"Open, open!" The now substantial crowd of goblins chorused excitedly over the top of each other. Sarah smiled at her increasingly raucous companions as the package practically fell apart at her touch. She looked down and gasped. Lying there amongst the rough wrappings was a deep blue velvet pouch with silver dwarven runes stitched around the edge. She looked up again at the goblins.

"Open it lady!"

"Oh please open the pretty present!"

Sarah loosed the matching silver strings keeping the pouch closed and upended its contents onto her hand. She stared agape at what laid there. So, this was Jareth's reasoning for letting the goblins back Aboveground. The goblins cheered joyously at the look of wonder on her face.

"Lady likes the present!"

"Hooray Lady!"

"Where did you find this, guys?" Sarah enquired innocently as she spread the piece of fine jewellery out on the pouch it had arrived in. It was a bracelet of intricately carved and linked leaves and feathers of various varieties. It was a pure and bright silver colour, and it seemed to glow in her hand. Each leaf was studded with tiny white jewels along one edge.

"Kingy will be cross if you say," a sullen little voice said from the corner of the room. Sarah pretended not to notice.

A beat of goblin near-silence should have made Sarah much more wary than it did, but she was far too wrapped up in the finery resting in her hand. She was mesmerised by the beautiful gift now, as if by magic.

"It was in the street, Lady."

"Just like all the other special things we gots for you."

"Yeah, in the woods and we founds it and bringsed it to you, Lady. Cause you's our Lady!"

Choom broke into song, "For our Laaaaaadyyyy…." and promptly found himself being smacked about by the others.

"Goblins don't do the singings to the Lady," one voice hissed out, poking Choom in the ribs.

The sullen little voice whispered, "Don't make kingy sad. No goblin singings to the Lady, only kingy."

Sarah, not concerning herself with the last few whispered words, laughed and slid the bracelet on to admire her gift better. The glitter of the tiny jewels was mesmerising, the intricate carvings stunning, the glowing silvery metal warm to the touch. A slight wrinkle creased the corner of her mouth as she studied it further – surely no mortal jeweller could ever have created something this otherworldly. The goblins certainly hadn't found it lying around on the street outside, or in the woods on the edge of town as they had with the other gifts given to her. This was definitely a Jareth gift. "I wish this made sense."

Something in the corner of her eye glimmered and Sarah looked up. She was no longer lying on her bed, but on plush cushions on a balcony. Looking around herself, Sarah realised that the balcony was attached to a castle, and that the balcony overlooked a city and the Labyrinth. _Jareth!_

"This is your eighteenth Winter Solstice, and your third since you mastered the Labyrinth," that familiar voice purred. "Welcome back to the Labyrinth, precious." He wore a white shirt, open almost to the navel, and skin tight, asset enhancing leather pants. His boots and gloves were in matching black soft leather.

"How did I get here?" Sarah asked, openly unimpressed at the apparent involuntary moving of her person through dimensions.

The Goblin King responded calmly to Sarah's accusatory tone. "You wished for understanding. I happened to be listening at the time. You are only here as long as you want to be, you need only wish yourself home in order to go there, right now." He allowed himself a smile as she gathered herself and stood up to face him.

"What a view," she murmured to herself as she looked away from the king and out to the horizon.

"Indeed," the king responded as he drenched his memory with her physical presence. At length, he turned her around and sat her down on a chair which had not been there a moment ago. He sat down on the one matching it and smiled, pulling something from his seemingly bottomless coat pocket. With a smile, he handed her a baseball sized sphere, which shimmered the same way as his previous gift to her had in a certain light.

"Thank you," she said, reverently inspecting the trinket.

"Oh, this isn't from me," Jareth remarked in a way he hoped sounded offhanded. "Take a closer look at the markings on the petals." Sarah looked closely through the solid maze-like pattern in the lace and into the short stemmed, many petalled flower in the centre of the orb. Tiny words were inscribed around the outer edge of each petal in elegant calligraphy. It appeared to Sarah to be carved out of one singular giant pearl, and she was in awe of its beauty. The words were poetry. The parts she could make out went:

" _Sarah, dearest wanderer mine,_

 _Traverser of my paths and lanes_

… _Riddle mistress, champion fair…_

 _Old friend of purest speech…"_

"This is a gift from the Labyrinth. The flowers you loved when you were so small. I assume you remember..?"

"Yes," was Sarah's reply. Beautiful, impossibly large carnation-like flowers in every colour imaginable were still vivid in her mind's eye.

"This, however, is a gift from me." Jareth plucked a crystal from thin air. With a caress from his other hand, the crystal became a long silver chain, the same bright material as the bracelet on her wrist. Charms hung from the centre, matching those on her bracelet. He draped it around her neck and it hung down low, past the swell of her breasts. Jareth ignored his natural urge to smirk with sultry eyes at the rather pleasing way with which the chain swung freely at its end. "Sarah, please give me your hands." The Goblin King reached underneath her hands which still held the pearl-like orb. From between their fingers floated three small crystals, each attaching to a petal inside the caged sculpture. Another rose up and encompassed the whole thing, and Jareth moved his hands around Sarah's, wrapping both their fingers around the crystal orb and bringing them together.

"What are we doing?" She asked breathlessly.

"We are making it smaller, so that you may keep the Labyrinth's gift to you on your person at all times. I assume that would be something you'd like?" Sarah nodded at this. They continued slowly bringing their hands together until the orb was the size of a large marble and their hands were held tight together. It was a simple act, and yet the moment was incredibly intimate. Sarah kept her hands there for a moment longer than necessary, as did the king. He smiled tenderly down at her, and she returned the expression. The bonds of friendship, indeed.

"What were the three smaller crystals for?" The world breathed again as the moment passed and Sarah resumed her questioning.

"Protection wards. Yves will be away for some time."

This was the first Sarah had heard of Yves going anywhere. "Where are you sending him?"

"He is required by his people for a cultural rite of passage. You should ask him about next time you see him." Jareth's eyes sparkled mischievously and Sarah expected that it meant the question was going to be an uncomfortable one for Yves to explain.

"Hey, why didn't you give me protection wards in the first place, all those years ago?"

Jareth sighed. "You can't bring physical things back through dreams. As for sending something back with you at the end of your Labyrinth journey, I did try. You were still expecting me to play your villain, though. It is very hard indeed to aid someone who believes only ill of you."

"Oh, well that makes sense."

Jareth continued to explain the gift. "If anything should be amiss, the charms inside this orb shall alert me. It is indestructible by human and most magical means, and will protect you while you wear it."

Sarah nodded. "Thank you," she replied softly.

"It is my honour and pleasure, precious one," Jareth murmured. He stood and held his arms out to her. She accepted his help out of the low seat and without warning wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest. He encircled her in his arms, overwhelmed with unspoken love for the mortal young woman in his embrace.

"Thank you for playing the hero this time." After an eternity and mere seconds, she stepped back and wished herself back home.

* * *

 **A/N: so, Yves and Sarah's dream adventures are actually based on ones that I had in my dreams as a child, with a blonde boy that I had never met before in real life… that I still remember to this day, because they were so vivid.**

 **Thank you once again for the follows and reviews! I enjoy hearing your thoughts and making sure your questions are answered in good time. This fandom has grown on me quite a lot, you guys are great! :D**

 ***I don't think Yves is going to end up paired with anyone in this realm or the Goblin Kingdom. I kind of ship him and Mirana from Alice in Wonderland, I think they'd be fun to write together... If enough people are interested, I might just write that one-shot.**


	5. Five

" _NOOO!"_ Sarah screamed, unable to move from where she stood. The anguished cries of her classmates around her were interspersed with the crack of breaking bone and the thud of flung bodies hitting the wooden floor in random piles of disfigured humanity. The gym was turning red, the crepe decorations were torn and bloodstained; the man-like creatures were closing in on her again. Their eyes gleamed neon green from their pasty grey sockets, pupilless and evil. She could feel their breath –

Sarah sat up gasping and sobbing, reaching in the dark for her bedside lamp. As she switched it on, she felt a warm, purring weight plonk itself on her lap. She picked up Puck and held him close as she calmed down from the nightmare, an act of affection borne stoically by the feline. The nightmares had been coming thick and fast every night for months now and Sarah knew how to deal with the tendrils of fear that they left behind. She reached for a leather bound book on her bedside table and used its words of comfort and hope to chase away the shapeless forms in the dark.

* * *

The Grand Library was one of the few sanctuaries the Goblin King allowed himself from his endearingly ugly little subjects, outside of his own chambers and the Ballroom. (Heavens, the tumult that they might cause at a banquet or a ball with foreign diplomats – on second thoughts, maybe the goblins _should_ be allowed in the ballroom on occasion…) Other, less destructive subjects in the kingdom could obtain license to enter and research in its great halls, but there was no way under any amount of suns in the sky that Jareth was _ever_ going to let _any_ goblins in there. The ceiling was four stories high by the standards of a modern mortal human, and the walls were lined floor to ceiling with richly bound volumes covering an array of topics factual, fictional and many somewhere in between. The immense, corridor and shelf filled room seemed to hum with its own kind of magic. Words are powerful, and so many words in such a concentrated place seemed to be trying to bend time and space to their own will.

Jareth's spacious office was in an alcove adjacent to the Grand Library. Somewhere else in the castle there were 'official' offices, with clerks and the like, but the Goblin King preferred the company of books to that of bickering politicians and mostly ignored 'advisors'. This space was his sanctuary: it was separated by double oak doors which were left open at almost all times. A rich, deep maroon coloured velvet curtain hung in the doorway and was held either side by the hooks embedded in the walls for that purpose. The room was also lined with books – ledgers and King's Memoirs from the past few thousand years as well as a few volumes of the more useful political and historical law variety. His desk sat at the centre of the room, a massive piece of furniture inlaid with bones and tusks of large mythical beasts as well as precious metals. The surface was polished silky smooth. Drawers lined either side of the desk, and the side facing the door was a wood and bone carved artwork comprised of grotesque goblins and elegant Fae in stark contrast to one another.

The King leaned back at the great desk in the matching chair with his leather booted feet carelessly tossed on top of the shambles that was the paperwork that buried the elegant piece of furniture. His expression was one of concern and displeasure – the conversation he and his two most trusted advisors were having had drifted towards a rather unpleasant discussion. "Really, the necklace is enough. Besides, Puck is a faithful creature who would defend his Lady to his last."

"We don't doubt the effectiveness of the amulet or the fealty of the feline," Medwin began diplomatically, but descended quickly into dwarvishness as he continued: "but honestly, Majesty, leaving her without a more sentient guard aboveground has to be one of the daftest things I've ever seen you do." Yves coughed and it sounded as if he'd choked out something about fire ants and a goblet of honey. Medwin amended, "Well, it's definitely in the top fifty."

"Besides," interjected Yves, "While I'm here and in the forest preparing for my coming of age ceremony, there's no one to keep an eye on the likes of Chip." His face was a picture of discomfort and concern; Sarah had once again become one of his dearest friends.

Jareth's eyebrows launched themselves into the stratosphere. Chip. "Sarah would never consider that arrogant fop in such a light. She has better taste than that." The Goblin King's features settled into one of his trademark smirks, oozing self satisfaction.

"Ah, Jareth, tree boy's right. Her taste isn't the point – Chip is a liability to our cause. He might care about Sarah when the fancy strikes him, but he is by far the most self interested human Yves seems to have had the misfortune of encountering." The King's features wilted somewhat at that point.

"The kind of toad you tend to channel when you play your charades with the labyrinth runners. Only he's worse, because he's sincere." Yves shuddered.

Medwin concurred, his more refined Elven training becoming apparent in the moment. "At least your capricious fits are lined with a certain amount of benevolence, even if they tend towards the destructive."

Jareth magnanimously ignored the previous comment as his mind circled the challenge at hand: what to do with Sarah, and how to minimise any damage Chip might do to her. "We need to get rid of Chip," he stated matter-of-factly.

Yves went a shade paler than usual and stared at the king, wide-eyed. "She would be furious if the people she trusted intervened in her personal life like that. She's so sure she can handle the entire world herself. You've seen her."

"You wouldn't be having any ulterior motives for removing that carbuncle from our collective backsides would you, Majesty?" Medwin raised an eyebrow and ended his question with a smirk. Yves stifled a chuckle. Everyone in the room knew the King's ulterior motives and had vivid memories of the last time Sarah had so effortlessly and unknowingly shot him down. Jareth frowned.

Of course, he felt all sorts of unquantifiable things for the young woman. He had cared deeply for her in her formative years, the way a guardian feels toward their young charge. But during her run through the Labyrinth, Jareth had suddenly really _noticed_ her. The kind of person she was becoming: the brattishness disappeared throughout her ordeal and what was left was a young woman who was steadfast, strong and brave… and beautiful. Lands, she was beautiful. Not in the ethereal Fae sort of way, but in her humanness, her stubbornness, her imperfections and her naivety, there was something about her which he had seldom encountered in his own kind. His eyes had been opened to a world of other possibilities, and he had foolishly, prematurely offered her everything. In hindsight, it was rather creepy. Okay, it was supremely creepy, as his father had pointed out at every possible occasion. There was no way he was going to make that mistake again.

The young dryad decided in that quiet moment of the King's reflection that it was his turn to speak his mind. "Any amount of time spent with Chip will quickly reveal to a discerning person the limits of his character and intelligence. Sarah has already encountered many of his shortcomings and has guarded her heart against all of his frivolous, half hearted advances thus far. Do you really think so little of Sarah?" Yves finished with that bold proclamation to his monarch, much to His Majesty's raising of eyebrows. Quickly remembering himself, Yves continued with much mortification, "…is what I'd say to anyone other than the Ruler of the Kingdom I live in, because I respect said ruler immensely, and know he has the most impeccable judgement." Medwin covered a guffaw with a poorly constructed coughing fit. The little crawler. No one was more capable of endearing Jareth to the idea of a swift bogging than Yves. In the same token, the young upstart was valuable entertainment and occasionally said useful things. With this in mind, Jareth resisted the urge and instead, with a flick of his fingers, sent one of his goblin guards outside the Grand Library doors in his place. That felt better.

Yves ventured with caution along another perilous branch of conversation. "There is also the matter of Sarah's emerging…abilities." He scratched uncomfortably at the base of his neck where a new leaf bud had recently sprouted.

Medwin harrumphed in full dwarvish glower. "And that blasted trinket." Jareth pulled his best innocent face as Medwin narrowed his eyes and continued, "Don't play that game with me, Jareth. Everyone in this room knows all about that little sphere on a pretty chain. Does she even know what it does?"

"She knows it helps protect her," replied a now re-annoyed Jareth, "Beyond that, I don't see reason to explain anything at this point in time." The Goblin King leaned back in his chair, folding his arms with a forbidding expression. Medwin ignored it.

"She could be capable of anything, or nothing!" The half dwarf was annoyed at Jareth's apparent flippancy concerning the young woman's magical potential.

Yves interjected before Medwin could begin a heavily brogue-accented rant. "We have observed her on two occasions now when she has used it.* I believe her gift is linked to who she is at her very core. It seems to be some strange combination of Labyrinthine magic and something ancient from the Aboveworld."

"Right words, indeed…" mumbled Medwin.

Yves agreed with the frowning Governor. "Yes, we've always known her to have an affect on her surroundings with her words. Remember the locomotive incident?" He pulled a face, recalling the destruction over a decade ago.

Jareth chuckled, his features softening a little once again. "Yes, that was an interesting evening in the Labyrinth."

"Bloody destructive human contraptions," grumped Medwin as he wandered around the room in a huff. The half-dwarf Governor stopped and turned to the king, his facial expression flickering between irritation and beseechment as his Elven heritage wrestled with his dwarf side. "Your Majesty, after this evening's discussions it has come to my attention that we should move towards implementing a plan to protect the human girl –"

"Young woman," Jareth interjected.

"…young woman," continued Medwin with an eye roll, "And find a way to do so without ruining our current positive relationship with her and those who –"

Medwin's official proclamation was cut off by an eerie sound that resonated from a pile of paper on the Kings desk. Jareth immediately sprang forward, digging around in the pile of papers and pulled out a glowing crystal orb. Without a word, the now frowning Goblin King disappeared in a flash of glittering light.

Medwin sighed and, without a look to the Dryad who was now walking out the door, sat in the king's chair to begin drafting a plan.

* * *

It was the same dream again. The screams of terror and groans of pain of her classmates were being interspersed with the horrifying sounds of human bodies being broken and discarded. The blood splattered gym crumbled around her, the gleaming eyes that lacked pupils raked her person hungrily. They were coming for her and once again she couldn't move –

Sarah opened her eyes and sat up with a sob. She reached for her lamp light and noticed that it wasn't tuning on. The globe must've blown. It was then that she noticed her window was open, and the inky black shapeless things that were oozing over the sill and onto her bedroom floor. It was an unusually realistic dream. Because of course something like this had to be a dream. There had been many occasions where Sarah had thought she had woken up only to discover herself in yet another nightmare, and this seemed to be a similar situation; in fact she was sure of it. Sarah refused to scream, but in her current state of complete vulnerability fear was quickly swallowing her. Her cat was angrily hissing and growling at the shapeless black things in the half-light of the moonlit room. The creatures' gleaming eyes sent shudders of dread down her spine, and she tucked her feet underneath herself.

The room began to shimmer with a seemingly sourceless light. _This is definitely a dream,_ Sarah resolved. She wasn't sure she believed it but it was an easier way to cope with what was going on than to figure out the whys and wherefores. In the centre of the cloud of light appeared the form of a man – tall, athletic physique, wild blonde hair – oh. The Goblin King. Sarah's eyes grew wide. He was resplendent in black leather pants, boots, gloves, an ink black shirt and cloak billowing in the breeze he seemed to create for himself upon his arrival. His shoulders and wrists were clad in bright silver armour pieces, the gauntlets intricately decorated with words in a script Sarah didn't understand. The amulet against his chest glowed softly of its own accord and a large double edged sword with a magnificent pommel was strapped to his side.

Sarah looked up into his eyes and saw unchecked fury. Without a word, the Goblin King had conjured several crystals and dispatched them one after the other in the direction of the black creatures. Upon contact, most of them squealed and burned bright green into nothingness. The wind of the Goblin King's wrath whipped up paperwork and the leaves that had blown into Sarah's room during the time the wind had been open, stirring them like the debris in a hurricane around himself. Flashes of light, whipping tendrils of darkness, a drawn sword, CHINK! One of the beasties was pinned with the tip of the enchanted blade as it had attempted to escape.

As Jareth leaned down close to it, Sarah could have sworn the formless thing appeared to cower. The Goblin King spoke low, menace lacing his every syllable. "Tell your masters… the Lady is _protected._ " With a jolting tug and a sneer, Jareth removed the tip of his double edged sword from the now dull eyed creature and it slithered away into the night.

The room was now empty, except for the Goblin King, the cat, and Sarah. The eerie glow her room had taken on during the ordeal confirmed it – she was almost convinced that she was dreaming still. Without fear she asked, "Why are you being kind? You usually leave me… alone…" She drew out the last part of the sentence to try and avoid the emotion rising up in her chest. But she couldn't hold back, she was too exhausted from such a lengthy amount of time without real, satisfying rest. Sarah sobbed aloud. In the majority of her dreams involving the oft-capricious Fae regent, Jareth either left her to her own devices in perilous situations, or directly caused her some form of harm. She looked up at this tender, caring apparition of the Goblin King who did not leave her side in this small yet nightmarish moment of crisis. Normally in her nightmares he played the villain, not the vanquisher. This was a strange and wonderful turn of events, which made more sense since her talks with Yves, as well as the Performing Chicken incident.*

Sarah believing she was asleep left Jareth feeling safe in baring a measure of raw emotion in response. "Yes, precious. This is just a dream. In reality you are safe in your chambers with your loyal feline at your side. But whether you are asleep or alert and in your waking hours, know this, dear heart. I will never abandon you. Not ever."

"Will you stay, Goblin King? Please don't leave me again." Sarah reached a hand out to him tentatively, still unsure of the true nature of such an enigmatic being.

"Certainly, dearest Sarah. I will never abandon you." With his gently murmured and repeated words, his heart broke. Jareth knelt down at the side of her bed, reaching out to take her hand. With his free hand he stroked her hair out of her face. "Rest peacefully this eve, precious one."

Sarah lay down once more and relaxed at the reassurance that the physical contact with the Goblin King gave her. Something inside her wondered if what was happening was real, but her conscious mind shushed it in favour of enjoying the moment unhindered by questions concerning the nature of reality.

A purring cat deposited himself loyally beside Sarah and looked knowingly at the King. Jareth smirked at the feline before turning his gaze back to Sarah, who looked to be dozing off once more. Audaciously, he leaned close and drew her into his arms as he hummed to her a song of his own making – for which he did not yet dare to utter the words. For now, everything was right with his Sarah, she was safe. She would stay safe. She would learn and grow, become the strong and great woman she was destined to be. She would protect others, nurture and guide, bring joy and correction. Yes, his Sarah was more precious than the finest mithril and would be a fine Queen indeed. Not that she needed to know he thought that any time soon. In fact, it was best that she didn't, he decided.

* * *

 **A/N: This chapter is a shorty. Never fear, for I have another one to go up within the next 24 hours. I just didn't feel right about sticking the whole lot into one chapter. It felt like watching one and a half episodes of a TV show, the way it was originally divided up.**

 **Growling cats are quite intimidating. _"You had better keep scratching my chin, or I swear on the graves of my ancestors that I will end you." o_O_**

 **Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and messaged me about this story! Your praise is encouraging and your concrit helps me improve in leaps and bounds. I am really enjoying writing this and it's great to know that you're deriving pleasure from reading it.**

 ***Remember the dazed look on the Bolg scouts' faces? Also, see my recent oneshot which is set around chapter four's events for the other occasion where we witness Sarah's 'Certain Powers' being used.**


	6. Six

**A/N: Yeah, so…it did take me more than 24 hours to get around to bringing you this next instalment... Humblest apologies. I was tempted to make a Wibbly-Wobbly, Timey-Wimey excuse, but I value you all more than that, beautiful readers. This is what happens when you get busy, and then sick. But never fear! Over the next three weeks I fully intend on bringing you this and another three chapters!**

* * *

It had been several days since the nightmare, and the not-awake half memories Sarah had of the Goblin King danced continually around the periphery of her memory. Sarah traversed the school halls between periods in the direction of the coordinate geometry class she'd been forced to pick up, thanks to her own previous math dodging endeavours. It was the longest walk she had to any of her classes, so she allowed her mind to wander.

Yves not being around was a real bummer. Sarah had grown accustomed to his company over the previous months. The events in the gym (and their surge in mutual transparency) had only brought them closer together. Yves was the annoying older brother Sarah never knew she needed. Without his company, the world seemed to have lost its zing. It didn't help that her life had lacked a certain leather pants-clad Fae regent since the nightmare, either.

She was spending more time with her friends at the school paper and her drama class buddies, but doing that reminded her just how much she'd never felt knit right in with those groups to begin with. They were great people: she had fun in their company, laughed at their jokes, and helped them with occasional personal problems. But there was always that thin, transparent, nonsensical barrier separating her from almost everyone else in school.

School. Senior year. The home stretch. Spring was just around the corner and Sarah welcomed its promises of green and its splashes of colour after the stark monochrome of winter. Her birthday was in spring. That was nice. She also liked the idea of a break from Chip. The general consensus of her peers was that since the heroic Jock had 'saved' her (ugh) from the falling gym roof, that they were now a _thing_. Chip's interpretation of this seemed to support this notion. In reality they weren't an item at all and both of them knew it. But he wasted no time waltzing up to her, throwing an arm around her shoulder and planting a kiss on her cheek every time he saw her – usually in crowded places. Once, this behaviour would not have bothered Sarah; she was an affectionate creature and those who she considered a part of her very limited inner circle were regularly treated as such. But now, she felt as if this once innocent act of friendship was being abused and tainted to make their friendship look like something else.

A blue and grey clad brick of a human being launched himself at Sarah with a million dollar smile plastered on his face. "Sarah! Babe! Miss me?" He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing the air out of her lungs. Ah, Chip. He let go and she caught her breath. Sarah laughed and was about to say something sarcastic when he planted a noisy kiss on her forehead and spun off into the sea of teenage bodies. "See you later, Sarah!" Sarah stood and watched with a bemused smile as Chip waltzed off to wherever he was meant to be. As she started on her way again to class, she caught several dreamy and more than one jealous expression from various females who had witnessed Chip's public display of affection. Yep, this whole hero business had turned Chip into a real ladykiller.

Sarah had arrived at her class and walked through the door. She found her seat somewhere in the middle of the classroom, near a window. She wasn't a fan of math at the best of times and the gaggling group of girls in the back corner of the classroom were not endearing the experience to her any further. She scratched behind her ear and stared out the window, waiting for the teacher to arrive. Something white moved in the tree closest to her window and drew Sarah's attention to itself immediately. Her eyes widened when she recognised the white owl staring back into the window at her. Wait, it wasn't staring at her, it seemed to be looking past her and towards the door.

The door swung open and a stocky young man walked into the room wearing a satchel and a heavy grey coat. He didn't appear to be any older than his mid twenties, though the world-weary expression on his face made Sarah wonder how much he'd managed to experience in his lifetime. It wasn't his first time teaching this specific class, either – Sarah remembered his face from last week. That must be why he looked ready to throttle the next person to ask him to repeat Pythagoras' Theorem for them, or question the necessity of mathematics in real life. She looked back outside briefly and caught sight of the tail of the owl as it flew away.

Sarah's attention snapped back as the teacher. He had removed his coat and stood at the front of the class room with his hands on his hips,proudly wearing a kilt. That was new. Of course, she remembered he was Scottish. What was his name…? Mr MacDougal? Mr Gordon? Mr MacLauchlan? He began to speak. "Welcome to another regular day in Coordinate Geometry, class," he said authoritatively with a gentle brogue, "In case you have forgotten since last week, class… My name is Mister McKee-" _Oh yeah, McKee_. "-and I will be your substitute teacher until Ms Durston returns from the all expenses paid vacation in the Bahamas that she won two weeks ago."Sarah wondered if the random vacation had anything to do with the owl outside but told herself not to be so paranoid.

The class progressed as usual and Sarah attempted to absorb the equations and theorems scrawled on the board in the substitute teacher's spidery handwriting. The giggling girls to her right were getting annoying. She wondered what it was they were talking about and decided a little eavesdropping was in order.

"…and she doesn't know! Poor thing. But, he _is_ pretty dreamy…"

"Shut _up_ , Janice! Just 'cause he's hot doesn't mean he's not a dirty rotten cheater. And, I mean, like, did you see him with Patricia O'Leary at Gus's party last month? Ew!" The girl called Janice cowed at her social superior's admonition and the rest of the group cringed at some shared unpleasant PDA related memory.

Sarah rolled her eyes. Typical. That particular kind of clique was always gossiping about who was dating whom, what happened at last weekend's party, cheaters and the poor souls attached to them.

"My sister's boyfriend's cousin said that she heard that he snuck out on the weekend with Charlotte from gym class," whispered a girl in the row behind the little group. Three stunned faces turned back to look at her.

"No way! That player!"

"Oh my God, poor Sarah," sighed the one called Janice. Sarah's curiosity was now burning and her paranoia levels had risen to an all-time high. Surely not.

"Shh, she's right over there!" At the hissed reprimand, Sarah's eyebrows shot up. Someone at the front of the class audibly snapped a pencil in the following moments of silence. Sarah forced herself to focus her eyes down at her work. Her vague suspicions were confirmed. She drew circles with marginally less precision as she processed this new information.

Chip wasn't a bad guy. He was incredibly sweet when the notion took him. He regularly did things to help others too. But like most teenagers, his magnanimity came with a hefty list of terms and conditions: not the least of which being that said acts of kindness must in some way benefit or aid his Chip Is Awesome Campaign. Chip would never deliberately hurt anyone, he wasn't a total Gilderoy Lockhart. Well, she previously didn't think that he would. But here they were now, and Chip was using his fame as the Gym Catastrophe Hero to pull chicks behind her back. Sarah didn't care for Chip romantically, but she did think slightly better of him than that. _At least he could have clued me in on what he's up to_ , she thought. Sarah's ire increased when she realised that because everyone thought they were in a relationship, people must now be starting to think that she was some poor, ignorant creature…hanging on for dear life to her untameable, wild and free beau. _Oh, the humanity! My poor sensibilities_ , Sarah wailed in a sarcastic mental voice. Honestly, though, the whole situation did bug her a lot. She felt…ruffled. Frustrated. So much for friendship and trust. _Stupid Chip!_

Lunch time was interesting. Sarah grabbed her food and had sat down at her usual table before any of her friends arrived. It wasn't long until Chip flounced down next to her with his own tray of food. "Hey, Sarah." He affectionately bumped shoulders with her. He was such a jerk. Such a sweet, unaware-of-his-jerkishness jerk. Recognising his genuine friendship towards her, she decided in that moment on her strategy for navigating the situation she'd found herself in: make him nervous, confront him (even a jerkwad friend deserves some form of fair warning), prank the hell out of him, forgive and move on.

"So," she began with a half smile, "How was your weekend? Did you do anything interesting?" Sarah asked innocently.

"Oh, it was great! We, uh, I mean, I had a meet. So that was pretty swell." Chip stammered before making a smooth recovery.

"Yeah?" for once in her life, Sarah realised she just might have Chip on the back foot. "That's good to hear. I wanted to hang out with Charlotte but she had other plans. She was pretty vague when I talked to her. I wonder what she was up to." One of the girls from her math class, the one called Janice, was sitting two seats down and across from Sarah and heard this. At the mention of Charlotte and the weekend, she stared at Sarah in shock. Sarah winked back with a mischievous smirk.

"Heh, who knows with Charlotte? She has a pretty intense training regimen." Chip laughed nervously and Sarah joined him with her own hearty chuckle. Oh, he was so incredibly busted. The subject shifted to the impending Spring Break and the various people at the tables' plans, and Chip's pervious nerves subsided a little. Sarah noticed.

"So, I ran into Patricia O'Leary last week and she seemed really embarrassed. Didn't want to talk to me or anything. What's up with her?" Chip's eyes popped wide open. Yep, he was looking disconcerted again. _Muahaha._

Janice had looked up with mild shock at Sarah's words and saw the glint of mischief in her eyes. Janice had also noticed that Chip had started to squirm once again; she picked up on things quickly when the queen bee wasn't around to make her nervous. "I heard she was making out with some other girl's boyfriend the other weekend. Can't remember who they said it was, though…" replied Janice with a knowing glance directed towards Sarah.

"Oh hey, look at the time. I've got to, uh, meet Gus. For practice." Chip sprang up and practically hurdled over everything between himself and the cafeteria door.

Much to the shock of the remaining teenagers at the table, Sarah laughed. "I'll be right back, guys," she said with another smirk. With that, she stood up, grabbed her bag and the apple sitting on her tray and strode in the same direction as Chip had previously fled, though with less debris in her wake.

"Whoah…" whispered Janice. "Did you see that? She totally knows what he's doing!" Several of the others agreed, and the discussion turned to wonder at Sarah's ability to cope with such a wayward beau, and what on earth Sarah might do next. Janice got up and, with one of the other girls at the table, decided to follow in order to find out.

Sarah Williams found Chip fairly easily. In the time between her leaving the cafeteria and arriving at the gym, her humour had soured considerably. Of course he was hanging outside the gym with Gus. Chip had little imagination when it came to inventing places to be for himself. His back was to her; it was Gus who saw her approaching. Sarah took one scathing look at Gus and the wannabe jock took off without a word. Chip turned around and the look of confusion on his face turned to a knowing dread. Sarah wasted no time with pleasantries.

"Look, you and I both know that this whole dating thing you've got everyone believing is bogus."

Chip decided to play the nonchalance card. "I don't see you complaining."

Sarah's eyes narrowed as she entered his personal space. "Shut up and let me talk for once."

"Sheesh, someone's tetchy." Chip folded his arms and regarded Sarah with a pout.

A small audience had gathered nearby, trying to listen without looking conspicuous…and thereby making themselves looking even more obvious. Sarah glared at her so-called friend and Chip decided that silence was indeed his best option at that point. "Chip. I know what you've been doing behind my back."

"So, you know about Patricia?"

"Yes, and I-"

"And Charlotte? Mallory? Stacey? Lauren?"

"What? I –"

"Oh, I feel so much better now." Chip relaxed and, with a grin, tossed an arm around her shoulders affectionately. "See, I knew that you weren't interested in me, what with your googly eyes at Sparkly Captain Tight Pants the night of homecoming –"

Sarah's eyes widened with surprise. "You saw Jareth?"

Chip looked irritated. "Tall, thin dude with crazy blonde hair and creepy eyes in the middle of the gym before the roof collapsed? Yeah. Anyway, so when I realised that there was no chance for me there, I was pretty bummed. But then, first day back at school, I had all these girls following me around, fawning and stuff. You know, like I was some sort of hero."

Sarah rolled her eyes. Oh lordy, here we go.

"I tried correcting them one time, but they all parroted the story back to me. I don't remember anything other than jumping out the way of the roof collapse, but according to them," and Chip reiterated the story that had now been around the school a thousand times.

About half a minute in, Sarah had had enough. "Stop Chip, just…shush. Yeah, you read me right – I'm not interested in you like that. You're a great friend when you want to be, too. I just –"

"So, you're okay with it?" Chip cut in, looking hopeful.

Sarah frowned. "Hang on, that's not –"

"Thanks Sarah! I knew you'd get it."

"Chip!"

The walking haircut waltzed off, once again without a care in the world. Not even his abysmal score on his geography pop quiz yesterday could get him down. He flung his arm around some other girl, her giggles grating on Sarah's nerves.

Sarah groaned, holding the side of her face in her palms.

"Ooh Sarah! That was intense!" Janice had wandered up, wide eyed with respect. "What are you going to do next?" some of the members of Janice's clique who had appeared seemingly out of thin air listened with stares of intensity beaming out of their eyeballs.

"Ugh, I don't know…" she mumbled to herself. Sarah looked up, mildly surprised to find herself looking back at the small audience. "Well, I have a few things in mind," she replied slowly and a little louder. Her previous look of aggravation had become somewhat craftier and plannier. (And if plannier wasn't already something she could become, she resolved then and there to write it into a script or a novel one day in an attempt to get it legitimised.) This in no way meant that her feelings of frustration and betrayal had been appeased. But it seemed to satisfy most of her audience and they dispersed, chattering amongst themselves.

A rogue half-dwarf substitute teacher also wandered off, having witnessed the entire ordeal. He figured that a certain Goblin King would certainly be interested to hear the happenings of that particular lunch period.

* * *

"What?! That rotten, mulch-for-brains, no-good imbecile! I'll..!" Yves had just heard Medwin's report and was seething with righteous anger on behalf of his dear friend. The fury displayed on his visage paled in comparison to the black wrath pulsing from the Goblin King's very being.

The three had met in the now conveniently empty throne room – Jareth's rapidly materialising armour and wardrobe change to midnight black leather pants, boots, and gloves with an open, billowing maroon shirt (coupled with the near-physical manifestation of untempered anger) may have had something to do with its lack of bustling staff. Also that many of the Goblins were occupied with harassing the builders in the city who were currently expanding the inner city walls to include one of the larger outlying villages that recently sprung up inside the Labyrinth. (It was difficult work and complicated magic, creating a static living space inside a constantly changing environment like the Labyrinth. Thus, many elves and dwarves found themselves working together rather reluctantly with a few of the less destructive goblins. Anyway, back to the narrative at hand.)

Medwin concluded his report in the same manner he had conducted it from the beginning: a businesslike, unaffected air with each detail laid bare without bias or prejudice. That was one of the great things about Medwin – he had the uncanny ability to present news without a personal bent.

This did not bring any amount of peace and restfulness to either of the other highborn occupants in the room. As soon as Medwin finished delivering his report, he joined them in their seething. "Something must be done with that miscreant," he muttered.

Having all had many opportunities to witness Chip in his natural habitat in the past few months, the three of them were aware that he was no immediate threat. However, being currently unable to do anything about the Bolg, their attention was drawn to their next largest perceived threat. Normally that would mean some Poultry Uprising or other, or perhaps a Goblin Festival with an oversupply of ale. Unfortunately for Chip, the Underrealm was quite settled, despite a large sample of its magical inhabitants attempting to coexist in work and rest in the same small area.

An apronned goblin made the mistake of entering the throne room at that moment and found itself quickly and habitually defenestrated by its monarch. Yves stifled a laugh at the welome distraction with a cough and Medwin harrumphed, rolling his eyes.

"We mustn't forget the real threat at hand, even though there is nothing we can specifically do about it right now. Just because the Bolg have gone underground since His Majesty's little warning," Medwin looked pointedly at Jareth, "doesn't mean that we can't be prepared. The expansion and fortification of the southeast city wall will be followed by the next most vulnerable section, and the Lady's guard will be –"

The soft sound of twin crystal goblets sung through the room silencing the Governor, and Jareth's pendant became warm against his chest. That only meant one thing. "Sarah." Without further explanation to the other two, he disappeared before their eyes in a shimmer of light.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks to the** _ **Babysitters Club**_ **for Chip's hookup girls' name inspiration. Once again, humblest apologies for the delay. I do intend on making it up to you all.**


	7. Seven

**A/N: I wrote this chapter listening to Atlas Song by Jonsi & Alex. Go listen to it on Spotify or something while you read and I promise that it will greatly enhance your reading experience.**

 _The soft sound of twin crystal goblets sung through the room, and Jareth's pendant became warm against his chest. That only meant one thing. "Sarah." Without further explanation to the other two, he disappeared before their eyes in a shimmer of light._

* * *

Sarah slammed her bedroom door and jumped face first into the pillows on her bed. Face buried in their softness, she took the opportunity to scream. Stupid, stupid Chip! He was the worst human in existence. It wasn't that he was a mean spirited person. He was nice! Nice and completely lost in his own selfish little bubble. Stupid, stupid, stupid –! She yelled into her pillow again and began to sob. Now _she_ felt stupid, letting herself get so worked up over such an idiot. The kind of idiot she had blissfully ignored for her first three years of high school. Her thoughts continued to spiral as sobs wracked her body, and every offense she'd ever suffered presented itself to her as if her brain had constructed a conveyor belt of misery, fear and anger. Puck jumped onto her bed and commiserated silently – he too had had a terrible day. Three run-ins with Merlin, the family's Old English Sheep Dog, the last of which he had bent a whisker in escaping.

The air shifted.

" _Where are you, you putrescent creature of the night?!"_ The satiny voice of the Goblin King was loud and laced with rage. Sarah startled from her angsty reverie and looked up wide eyed and slack-jawed at the vision in from of her. The Goblin King glowered around Sarah's bedroom in all his battle glory with sword and dagger drawn, anger seeping from his very pores. He looked terrifying (and incredibly attractive), but the setting was ridiculous. Sarah attempted to guffaw, except her innate desire to survive the potential wrath of the immensely powerful Fae monarch made the sound come out rather more similar to a strangled cry than something mirthful.

The Goblin King looked down and saw Sarah crumpled up against her headboard of her bed, half buried in pillows, mixed emotions of fear and mirth rioting across her otherwise porcelain features. "Where is the creature that is causing your distress, Sarah? I'm here to end its miserable existence." Noticing that there was no beast in the room, he sheathed the sword and tossed the dagger on Sarah's nightstand, and floomphed down onto the side of her bed unceremoniously. Jareth still somehow managed to make it look graceful. Sarah finally managed to laugh outright at His Majesty's ridiculous appearance.

"Jareth…" she said between guffaws, "Nothing is trying to kill me…I'm just…having an emotional moment…" and with that, her guffaws turned into sobs. Lordy, was she ever emotional today. Once the tears started, Sarah could not stop them and they rolled down her face like a lazily kept faucet. She sat there shamefaced and ugly crying in the presence of the most beautiful being she had ever met and she felt even more terrible.

Jareth leaned in close to her, his rage and indignance nigh-instantly turning into something else altogether. He reached towards Sarah's face; his eyes were locked with hers as he gently wiped a few tears from her cheeks. "I heard you were…distressed," he murmured. "What is troubling you so greatly, dearest Sarah?" Jareth moved closer to her and held his arms open to her, gathering her close with one arm. She sat forward and buried her face in the surprisingly soft material on the shoulder of his shirt, her arms wrapping around his upper torso.

"Chip is a hopeless idiot…" As soon as Sarah uttered the words, she felt the Goblin King's previously tender embrace become rigid with anger. Jareth's armour had vanished once he realised there was no physical threat, which was small compensation for the fact that every muscle on his athletic frame was as hard as stone.

"I'll end him." Sarah looked up and saw that his face was as set in a fierce expression; his angular features looked like polished marble.

"No, no! Don't kill him."

"Fine, he can live out his miserable existence in a damp oubliette."

"Certainly not!" Sarah's indignant tone intrigued the Goblin King, and his menacing demeanour softened somewhat as he pondered her words. She guffawed once at the stunned-turned thoughtful look on his face, and they smiled at each other. He wrapped his arms around her again and they sat together quietly, both settled in thought.

"Something must be done about that insufferable nincompoop. Even if oubliettes – and I'm assuming boggings – are off the cards." Jareth pondered for a moment. "There is nothing in the realm of the Fae nobler than a good revenge prank," Jareth remarked. "Well, not much. Well….quite a few things, really. But it's still a noble pursuit and we shall apply ourselves to this task with great fervour and determination."

Sarah chuckled, smiling up at him. "I was thinking something along the lines of public humiliation," She looked up and regarded the expression of the Goblin King thoughtfully, her face still tearstained.

Jareth laughed softly and dabbed once or twice at her face. "It would please me greatly to bring about some level of misery to the life of the snivelling fool who calls himself your _friend_." The cold sneer in his last word transformed quickly into a look of warmth. He smiled down at her, brushing hair away from the side of her face. Sarah blushed. Things were feeling awfully more intimate than she had ever experienced with anyone (let alone someone she was rather attracted to) and she was at a loss as to how to handle the situation. The walls of her emotional dam had already been severely battered during the course of the school day (in her imagination, tiny workers hurried to repair the fissures in her composure). Such proximity to Jareth as she was currently experiencing at any given time would put her self control in jeopardy, let alone in her self imposed state of vulnerability.

"I have no idea what to do," Sarah grumbled and sounded somewhat like her fifteen year old self upon encountering a certain set of door knockers in the Labyrinth. She had meant to only think the words, but panicked when she realised they'd come out of her mouth. _Crap, crap, crap_. "All I know," she surprised herself by continuing resolutely, "is that I want it to be spectacular and I want everyone to see it and remember it. But I don't want him being physically damaged. He is my friend, after all. Sort of." Phew. Saved. That was close.

Jareth snorted, apparently not noticing Sarah's momentary inner panic. "I'm not entirely sure friend is an appropriate label for a bogsniffer like that, but I shall respect your wishes as usual." And with that, they set to planning.

Sarah scribbled ideas into a notebook which she had reached for from beside her bed. She leaned against the chest of the Goblin King, who leaned back on one elbow and stroked Puck with his free hand. They laughed and chatted all the while. It was a strange and wonderful experience; they talked as equals – neither one of them letting their heritage or their somewhat tumultuous past negatively flavour their time together. A tiny flower bloomed inside Sarah's pendant, unseen by the pair who were currently absorbed in each others' presence and their plans.

An hour and a half later, the pair were laughing and making the final arrangements for their grand plan. It would take another two months to eventuate, but it would be worth the wait. The plan required Sarah to visit the Underrealm, several thousand surplus chicken feathers, a live lizard, the crown for the prom king, an errand to Marmoreal for Hoggle, a few other miscellaneous objects, and a little magic. Piece of cake.

When Jareth left, Sarah was in a far better frame of mind. That familiar feeling stirred in his chest as he smiled to himself, remembering the look on her face when he'd suggested the Oubliette. How wonderful to finally see her outside the façade she wore out of habit. How equally marvellous it was to spend time with her without his own pretence clouding her ability to really see him. There were few beings with whom he felt able to be true with. He hoped to continue to foster whatever this beautiful thing was. _Time for another present_. If only the Bolg could just…stay away, he thought petulantly. But never mind for now, he would be ready when they reared their heads once more. Sarah will be safe. Sarah will be splendid. _Courage, dear heart_ , he thought in her general direction as he wandered the halls towards his bedchambers. Despite its initial unpleasantness, the day had turned out well after all.

* * *

It would still take another two weeks for Sarah and Jareth to set into motion the prank they had planned, and another week after that before the outworking of it (and, not coincidentally, the Prom). Sarah had spent her time with her nose in her books, preparing for her final exams and staying as clear of Chip as possible. When they did cross paths, she was kind and pleasant with him, but maintained a subtle air of distance. The girls who had seen her previous dealings with her had taken to following her around the school in breaks and sitting with her in shared classes. The questions were constant, they wanted to know what was going on and Sarah wasn't divulging a thing. Super secret agent skills level: Expert. She felt pretty pleased with herself, despite the unsolicited attention. She wondered if she was experiencing popularity. She wanted to ask Yves about it. He would know. Hoggle had been keeping her up to date on her friend's wellbeing, but was pretty shady on the details. She wasn't sure if this was because he was hiding something or if he didn't know. Either way, he always seemed a bit embarrassed when Sarah asked. Sarah needed a different plan of attack.

The next Saturday when Choom, Quoket and Lumble were visiting Sarah's bedroom for their very highly anticipated story for the week, Sarah had an idea. "Quoket," she asked once her tale of the donkey's pyjamas had finished, "If I gave you a note, would you deliver it to Yves for me?"

"Oh, yes Lady!" Replied the small, apronned goblin with a grin. "Quoket can delivers it, better than the silly Puca in Lady's story!" All three goblins giggled. Sarah smiled along with them and hastily wrote a note on in her spare notebook.

 _Hey Yves,  
Hope you're well! Miss hanging out. Social life is strange and confusing. Need your advice!  
3 Sarah xx_

The goblins grabbed the note and poofed away without so much as a goodbye. At least they were prompt.

* * *

The goblins currently in the throne room were cackling riotously at the performance they were being treated to by their beloved Kingy and Leaf Boy.

"Stop it, Jareth! Please…. I swear the Xs on the note are hugs, not kisses!" Yves was suspended upside down in the throne room, being shaken around so much by an invisible force that some of his leaves had fallen out of his hair, and the charms woven through his locks jangled like wind chimes. The fallen leaves lay in a small scattered pile underneath him, skating around slightly in an imaginary breeze. Jareth rested on his haunches face to face with and glaring at the young dryad, his eyes dark and his arms folded. The shaking stopped and a tangible silence filled the room as Jareth sat back on the first step to his throne and pondered the use of the letter X as a hug, as opposed to a kiss – the manner which he had always been led to believe.

This was the scene that Medwin burst into with a clatter of boots and a slamming door. The goblins quieted down considerably, eyes wide with wonder and mild fear of the elf-dwarf governor. The Fae regent and his dryad subject turned their faces towards the now blustering half-dwarf. Yves' body slowly spun in the direction that he moved his head, still suspended but no longer in the vice grip that was shaking him about before.

"What the devil is going on in here?" Medwin yelled, "You pair of nit-witted pilbeasts!" Jareth straightened himself up, brushing a speck of dirt from the side of his form-fitting trousers and strode over to where the flustered governor stood. The Goblin King walked a lap around Medwin, eying him over, and frowned a little.

"Dear me, Medwin. You do seem a trifle flustered. Whatever seems to be the matter?"

The dwarf harrumphed, readjusting his coat. "A particularly rambunctious clan of Fireys decided to have a party early this morning. Ended up having a head throwing competition, upped the stakes by throwing them over one of the more gaseous parts of the bog, you know how they are… And, well… one thing led to another…" Medwin stopped for a moment, scuffing his boot at a mark on the throne room floor.

"Go on, Medwin. What happened?" Asked Jareth carefully.

The half-dwarf continued, "Point is, they may have sparked one time too many in their excitement. There was a rather large explosion."

"What? How large?"

"It appears to have reorganised a good third of the most disgusting part of the Bog of Eternal Stench."

"I see."

"That's not all… Wait just a minute, would you please care to explain why Yves, one of your most trusted agents, is hanging upside down in the middle of the throne room?"

Yves, still upside down, frowned and folded his arms as he continued to spin slowly in a circle like an office chair in an anti-gravity chamber.

"Oh, that was just a communication error. Resolved now. Thank you, Yves." Jareth flicked a finger in his direction and Yves flopped unceremoniously onto the floor. His leaves reattached themselves to him and greened up considerably. Yves scratched at another leaf bud behind his ear and grinned rakishly at the other two non-goblin occupants of the throne room.

A chicken squawked in the lull of conversation as a goblin hoisted it above its head and attempted to wear it as a headdress. Naturally, the King and his confidantes ignored this behaviour.

"So, Medwin," continued Jareth, "You were saying about the bog..? What else happened?"

"Well, there's now a methane storm hanging over the eastern part of the forest, and the Bog Guardian's home got blasted to pieces."

"Oh dear. Sir Diddlysquat?"

"Didymus, Sire."

"Precisely. What of his faithful steed?"

"All okay, Jareth. Didymus is somewhat… singed… though."

"I see." Jareth refrained from laughing, but Yves snorted at the thought of their extremely proper acquaintance in any sort of disorderly state – let alone with crispy whiskers and soot stained fur.

"Sir Didymus seems to have taken exception with the Fireys though. Your advisors are concerned that he may feel obligated to challenge the lot of them to a duel."

Yves lost it at the mental image, belly laughing til his sides hurt. Jareth and Medwin burst with chortles at the same time, both laughing heartily. The goblins thought that it looked like fun, so they joined in too.

After a few moments had passed and the goblins had gone back to being their rambunctious selves, Jareth had enough. "Shut up, everyone. I need to think." The throne room quietened once more.

"What if we send him to Marmoreal with Hoggle?" Pondered Yves aloud, "They could go sooner, perhaps a detour. Pick up a few extra things, deliver a letter for me to Mirana…"

Medwin agreed. "Yes. If they're gone long enough on an arduous journey, he may think better of duelling the Fireys. Hindsight and all that."

"I like it. Yes, inform Hoggle at once that he is leaving this afternoon instead of in two weeks' time. Tell the clerks to hire three replacement gardeners temporarily in Hoggle's absence, and invent a few extra tasks for them to do along the way. And for goodness sake, keep them well away from the forest and the bog!"

"And the, uh… flatulence storm, your majesty?" Asked Medwin.

"That's the easy part." Jareth conjured a crystal, sending it out the window in the direction of the east forest. "The crystal will completely absorb and dispel any odour and cleanse any inclement weather mixed up in the whole affair. The captured Bog cloud may come in handy later."

* * *

 _A gift, a gift. What to give?_ The Goblin King asked himself that evening as he reclined at his desk in the library alcove. Thinking of the recent events shared by them both, an idea popped into his head. _Useful and enjoyable, and almost entirely innocent_. Yes, this was perfect. He conjured a crystal and meticulously formed it into the intended offering. Next, he hand wrote a note. One it was attached, Jareth sent the parcel away to the Aboveworld, to a plae where Sarah would find it.

Excellent.

* * *

Puck sat purring contentedly in the middle of Sarah's bed. She'd be back in the room any moment now from her daily bathroom rituals and the petting would once again commence, along with the music listening and secret chocolate stash consuming.

 _Pzzf._

Puck stared inquisitively at the delicate package that had just appeared in front of him. Glowy things glittered around it and the cat swatted at them curiously. At that moment, Sarah returned to her bedroom wrapped in a towel. "What's that you've got there, Puck?" She asked, sitting down next to the cat and the package. Puck mewed and looked up expectantly at Sarah. Pats were in order. Sarah obliged with a small chuckle and set about reading the note attached to the parcel. It was on thick parchment, watermarked with swirls and a gargoyle face, and the words dominus rex.

_.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._

 _Dearest Sarah,  
I hope this gift finds you in good cheer. I have greatly enjoyed the opportunity afforded us recently to put behind us our past misunderstandings and strengthen the bonds of our friendship. Please accept these tokens of my gratitude and deep affection – an enchanted looking glass for inter-realm communication, and some sweets for your particular enjoyment.  
Warmest Regards,  
Jareth_

 _x_  
_.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._

Sarah placed the note on her bedside table with a smile, and set to undoing the wrappings on the parcel. Inside the glossy material cover lay a simple wooden box with a bevelled edge around its lid, and a deep blue velvet bag the size of Sarah's open palm. She opened the pull strings on the bag and out slid a round disc of glass, and another piece of paper. On the paper was written simply "I wish to speak to…" with Jareth's initials in the corner. The glass itself was delicately engraved around its edges with a similar pattern to the watermark on the paper – elaborate swirls, a star and a small gargoyle face. Around the edge it was gilt with bright silver like her necklace and bracelet – mithril? Perhaps.

Next, she opened the box. Carefully laid upon yet more deep blue velvet were dozens of small sweets. A heavenly scent rose from the beautiful yet simple container: rosewater, chocolate, citrus, and others she was unable to identify. It was wonderful. Another note lay inside the box: "One sweet an evening for sweet dreams and pleasant rest." Interesting. She lifted one up and placed it in her mouth, it melted as soon as her lips closed. A warm, pleasant sensation washed through her as she thought about how lovely the gift was. She stood up and quickly threw on her pyjamas, ready to make her first inter-dimensional call with the looking glass.

"I wish to speak to Jareth."

A face shimmered into view on the glass. It was the Goblin King himself. "Hello, dear Sarah."

"I want to say thank you for the beautiful gift, Jareth."

"It's my pleasure. I do hope you find them useful. Do be careful to only eat one of the sweets at a time. I don't know what many more would do to your system. They are a Fae delicacy. The looking glass has more uses than for talking to people in the Underrealm, I'll let you have the joy of figuring them out yourself." A screech sounded in the background and the Goblin King looked pained. "I must go, the goblins are having a street party and it's not turning out well for the chicken population of the Goblin City."

"Good night, Jareth."

"Goodnight, Sarah. I wish you pleasant dreams."

And pleasant they were, too. Very, very pleasant. Sarah's Sweet Dreams took her adventuring, dancing, exploring places beyond her wildest imagination. And when she woke up, she was more refreshed than she had been in several months.

* * *

"BOLG!" a beautiful woman shrieked, her lanky ink black hair quivering down her back as she raged, "WHY IS THE GIRL STILL ALIVE? WHY IS SHE STILL ABOVE GROUND?" Her voice reverberated around the green fire-lit great hall she stood in and the colour of the flames played over her paper white skin. The generals of the Bolg forces who were assembled in the room with her - powerful and terrifying as they were - paled in comparison to the dark, ancient evil of this feminine creature.

One of the more humanoid creatures amongst them with bright yellow orbs for eyes stepped forward to answer her wrath. Mighty in battle, fierce and cruel in his own right, this general cowered in the merciless godling's presence. "Please, Lady Nemain… the Fae…"

"What," She spat out between her teeth, "Do the wretched Fae have to do with anything?" She turned sharply, sending her scanty and loose robes swirling around her like smoke.

"I'm so sorry, mistress, they…. That is, the wretched Fae are protecting her... Our forces can't get through their defences in more than small groups of four or five…. We are weak from the last attack and need to build back our collective strength…."

The creature let out a yelp as she stabbed it in the foot with the spike on the base of her staff, and an inky black substance oozed from the wound. _Something must be done._ Nemain needed the girl. "How long?" She asked.

"Could take months, or days…or years. We never know."

The godling picked the Bolg officer up by his neck and held him at eye level. "Take as much time as you need. But if you fail me…" She tightened her grip slightly around his throat, making him gasp before releasing him and letting him fall into a crumpled heap on the ground.

"Y-yes… Great One… We live to serve you, and to crush the wretched Fae."

"Good." She prodded one of the wounds left by her sharp nails on the Bolg officer's neck and licked the ink black fluid that wept from it from her talon-like fingers. "Now be gone. I have more important things to do."

* * *

 **A/N: Ooooh, who is Nemain? Stay tuned to find out! ;)**

 **Coming up next: the prank to end all pranks, some Bolg shenanigans and some serious fluff.**

 **Lylabeth1 – you're right! I intended for this story to be a few motifs of Sarah's latter years, leading up to a grand adventure…but it appears that Jareth and Sarah had other ideas. Mainly Jareth. He is a little impatient, it would seem.**


End file.
